


When All Is Lost, Then All Is Found

by TeamDamon



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bottom Trunks Briefs, Canon Disabled Character, Chi-Chi is a good mama, Depression, Explicit Sexual Content, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Top Son Gohan, and Piccolo is a good dad, background Bulma/Vegeta, before anyone gets concerned there is NO underage anything here, by this point Trunks and Gohan are nearly the same age so, master kink, sort of like a daddy kink but... master, what even are these tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:22:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23083162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeamDamon/pseuds/TeamDamon
Summary: “All of this… you did this?”Trunks nodded. “Me and my mom. It’s a long story and you probably won’t believe half of it, but the Androids are gone and we went to New Namek to wish everyone back.”Gohan blinked several times, soaking in those words and looking Trunks over. He was a far cry from the young teenager Gohan remembered, now in his 20s and taller and rippling with muscles that his black tank and blue jacket couldn’t quite hide, not to mention the lilac hair brushing his shoulders. “Wow. You’re all grown up, Trunks.”Trunks blushed and looked down, smiling and nodding. “Yeah.”Gohan squeezed his shoulder and then moved his hand to the back of Trunks’ head, pulling him in and leaning their foreheads together in a quiet, intimate moment that made Trunks nearly melt right into the ground. It was sweet and simple and everything he hadn’t known he’d needed, and then when Gohan spoke, his heart soared.“I am so proud of you, Trunks,” Gohan said sincerely, eyes closed and hand tight behind Trunks’ head. “Thank you.”—Trunks and Bulma wish back all the souls and structures lost to the Androids’ rampages, but some wounds can’t be healed so easily.
Relationships: Bulma Briefs/Vegeta, Future Trunks Briefs/Future Son Gohan
Comments: 15
Kudos: 143





	When All Is Lost, Then All Is Found

**Author's Note:**

> *shows up late to the party with pizza* Does... does anyone ship these two anymore? I hope so, because I cranked this out over 9 days and am pretty proud of it :D I’m slightly obsessed with Future Trunks and his timeline and the inherent drama and tragedy in it, and while I haven’t watched Super yet I know that the poor guy never really gets a real happy ending SO, I’m changing that. 
> 
> Big HUGE thanks to sam-needs-a-better-url on Tumblr for reading this giant thing as I wrote it and providing absolutely invaluable help and feedback and reassuring me when I became convinced I was writing hot garbage - you are amazing and I appreciate you so much! Thank you also to any and everyone who might read this! :) Title and lyrics from Frozen 2’s All is Found (don’t @ me)

_ Come, my darling, homeward bound  _

_ When all is lost, then all is found _

  
In the end, things turned out better than Trunks had ever dared to hope for. Time travel had been a hell of a longshot in itself, but locating and traveling to Namek to ask for Porunga’s help in repairing the post-apocalyptic earth - that was a whole other ordeal that Trunks just didn’t see panning out. His mother adamantly disagreed, however, and thus began their mother/son adventure in space. 

And to Trunks’ undying shock, they not only got their wishes but they also got a new guardian of Earth. Dende agreed to take up Kami’s old post and revive Shenron, all of the Namekians more than willing to help the Earthlings who had once helped them during their own crisis. But first they summoned Porunga and asked for three things - to bring back everyone on earth that had been killed by the Androids, to restore Earth’s infrastructures as they had been before the apocalypse, thus saving the already critically damaged global economy the struggle of rebuilding, and finally to transport Trunks, Bulma and Dende back to Capsule Corp. Their ship had been badly damaged upon entering New Namek’s atmosphere and Bulma didn't have the time or equipment to fully repair it. 

And so, with their final wish, they bade New Namek farewell and were taken to a reborn Earth. The second that Trunks felt the familiar grass outside of Capsule Corp crunch beneath his boots, he closed his eyes and focused his energy as he began searching for the one ki signature that meant the most to him. And when he felt it, that spark of life that he hadn’t felt in so, so long, his icy blue eyes flew open and he gasped through a smile. 

“Did you find him?” Bulma asked with a knowing smile, a soft hand on her son’s shoulder. When he nodded quickly, she saw more light in his eyes than she’d seen in years and added, “Go get him, son.”

Trunks didn’t hesitate to turn and blast off towards Mt. Paozu. Bulma and Dende could handle things for the time being - for now, he flew faster than he ever had in his life, his heart racing and something almost like  _ joy _ dancing in his veins. 

_ Kami _ it had been so, so long. What would Gohan think of Trunks now? He had grown and changed so much and so many things had happened… what if everything was different now? What if Gohan didn’t want to be brought back? What if he was angry with Trunks for doing this to him, what if he would hate him from now on? 

Trunks grimaced at the anxious thoughts and kept pushing, kept flying, determined to not let his fears stop him from being where he needed to be. Gohan’s ki signature called to him like a flame to Trunks’ moth, a shining beacon in a world that had nearly crumbled to nothingness. The most important person in Trunks’ life apart from Bulma, the one man who had cared about him, who had taken him in and trained him and gave him a purpose, the mentor and friend whose death had both broken Trunks and set him on the path that had ultimately seen Earth saved - he was finally here, he was finally back, and Trunks couldn’t get to him fast enough. 

When Gohan’s childhood home finally came into view, Trunks didn’t have to search for very long to find him. Gohan was right there in front of the home, dressed in the same gi he’d died in, his mother on her knees in front of him as she clung to him and wept with joy for her son’s return. The Ox-King was there too, whooping with joy at his daughter and grandson’s side, and the sight of the emotional reunion made tears prickle at Trunks’ eyes. All over the world, similar reunions were taking place - indeed, he wondered when his father and mother would have their own reunion, but quickly pushed that thought aside for later - but this was the only one that Trunks was drawn to. 

He touched down a safe distance away, far enough to be respectful but close enough to quickly alert the family to his presence. Trunks nervously brushed aside a stray long lock of lavender hair - it had gotten long again while traveling in space - and held his breath as he watched Gohan’s head slowly turn his way. 

The second their eyes met, it was like the clouds had finally broke for the first time in years to make room for the sun at last. Trunks couldn’t stop the watery, happy smile from spreading across his face, and he didn’t care that tears were already starting to stain his cheeks. All he cared about was the man who gently pried his mother away and turned, his scarred face awed as he took in his former pupil and murmured, “Trunks?”

Trunks’ smile grew even bigger, and the next thing he knew he was running. Gohan was moving too, and when Trunks collided with that large, chiseled chest, he threw his arms around the older man and buried his face into his shoulder. Gohan wrapped his only arm around Trunks, holding him just as tightly, and neither man said a word because none could have truly done the moment justice. 

Trunks listened to the sound of Gohan’s heart beating, wondering if he’d ever heard a better sound in his life. He was  _ here _ , he was alive and dammit he even  _ smelled _ the same. 

When they finally pulled away, Trunks wiping self-consciously at his eyes and looking up at his mentor, Gohan kept his hand on Trunks’ shoulder and said, “All of this… you did this?”

Trunks nodded. “Me and my mom. It’s a long story and you probably won’t believe half of it, but the Androids are gone and we went to New Namek to wish everyone back.”

Gohan blinked several times, soaking in those words and looking Trunks over. He was a far cry from the young teenager Gohan remembered, now in his 20s and taller and rippling with muscles that his black tank and blue jacket couldn’t quite hide, not to mention the lilac hair brushing his shoulders. “ _ Wow _ . You’re all grown up, Trunks.”

Trunks blushed and looked down, smiling and nodding. “Yeah.”

Gohan squeezed his shoulder and then moved his hand to the back of Trunks’ head, pulling him in and leaning their foreheads together in a quiet, intimate moment that made Trunks nearly melt right into the ground. It was sweet and simple and everything he hadn’t known he’d needed, and then when Gohan spoke, his heart  _ soared _ . 

“I am  _ so _ proud of you, Trunks,” Gohan said sincerely, eyes closed and hand tight behind Trunks’ head. “ _ Thank you. _ ”

Trunks just barely choked down a sob, those words breaking a dam within his heart that he never could have prepared for. All his life, all he’d ever wanted was to have a father who would say those words to him, who would have pride in him and love him and fill the void that Vegeta had left when he’d died in Trunks’ infancy. For a time he had projected those feelings on to Gohan, his view of him as a father figure only natural after lacking one for so long, but now… after having met his real father in the past and riding  _ that _ rollercoaster of disappointment and angst but ultimately mutual respect and at least some degree of (mostly hidden) affection, it was clear as day now that what he felt for Gohan was not what a son felt for a father. And perhaps it helped that they were now close in age and thus technically peers, even though Trunks would likely never see himself as a true peer to Gohan, but when Gohan’s hand fell and Trunks looked up into those dark eyes he’d missed so much, all he knew was that he  _ needed _ Gohan and now that he was back, Trunks could feel whole again. 

They stood there, locked eyes saying what their voices couldn’t until Trunks was barreled into by a still-weeping and indescribably grateful Chi-Chi. She hugged him within an inch of his life, wailing her thanks for saving her precious baby boy and bringing him home, and Trunks blushed as he hugged her back and looked at Gohan in slight alarm. Gohan only smiled and looked on with love, letting his mother maul the poor boy and take all of her gratitude at full force. 

Then, after pulling herself together, Chi-Chi dragged both men into the house and announced that she would make them a feast fit for a king in celebration. Neither of them protested despite everything feeling so surreal that it was more dream-like than real. Trunks knew that feeling would fade, however, and focused on the newfound peace that had settled in his heart the moment he saw Gohan alive and well again. 

Everything had turned out all right after all. He wondered why he still felt a sense of dread at the pit of his gut, underneath all the overwhelming joy. 

—

Over dinner that first night, Trunks told the family the entire story from his journey to the past and then to New Namek. It was a lot to take in and entirely too much to process all at once, but there was no other choice when it came to Gohan and his mother. Besides, if anyone in the world was able to handle a tale as strange as the one Trunks shared, it was them. 

Then, within the same week, Bulma threw a huge party at Capsule Corp in celebration of their victory and the Z fighters’ resurrections. The atmosphere was strange, to put it lightly, but it was still a party and a decent one at that. Everyone turned up - even Vegeta, though he seemed mildly petrified by everyone  _ especially _ Trunks and kept to the shadows - and Trunks found himself an unwilling center of attention as Bulma held him up as the savior of the world and dedicated a toast to him. 

It was a severe oversimplification of things, of course, and Trunks knew damn well he’d only played one part in Earth’s salvation, albeit a key part, but he also knew that arguing would be futile. He begrudgingly took all the praise thrown his way by his mom, Tien, Chiaotzu, Yamcha, Puar, Piccolo, Krillin, Roshi, Oolong, and Chi-Chi, looking Gohan’s way as everyone cheered and drank in his honor. He was relieved to find a sympathetic grin on Gohan’s face as he quietly sipped his own champagne, the older man winking at Trunks’ clear discomfort. Trunks made a face at him and then continued on grinning and bearing all the adoration, though it felt distinctly easier after the silent interaction with Gohan. 

And that was what he’d been missing for so long. Everything felt easier and safer with Gohan around, like Trunks had a safety net he could fall into if all else failed. He finally wasn’t alone anymore. 

But, of course, that didn’t mean life would be all sunshine and rainbows from then on out. On the contrary, it soon became clear that in wishing back the Earth’s dead and restoring the global infrastructure, they’d traded one hell for another. Among the countless souls brought back to Earth, many found themselves returned to homes that they no longer belonged to and families that had grieved them and moved on. Others came home only to feel like strangers among their loved ones, trying to resume life as normal when nothing could ever hope to be the same kind of  _ normal _ that they’d left behind. In trying to help save the world, Trunks and Bulma has inadvertently created an entirely new global crisis driven by PTSD and other mental health woes that they honestly hadn’t foreseen. 

Within a month of making the wishes, the news became rife with a terrible trend - a rash of suicides by the newly revived who felt out of place on Earth and wanted to go back to Otherworld and rest in peace. It was horrifying and happening all over the place, and Trunks couldn’t help but wonder if they’d made a terrible mistake. 

And it only got worse when Gohan began showing signs of the same depression that plagued so many of the revived population. 

—

At first, Gohan had seemed okay, all things considered. He went back home to live with Chi-Chi and look after her, and Trunks and Bulma dropped in on them fairly frequently to check up on them and bring food or anything else they needed. Everything seemed remarkably fine until Trunks started noticing the little things, as much as he didn’t want to. 

Despite the brave face and calm demeanor Gohan always wore, he wasn’t eating much and he rarely left the house. When Trunks came over Gohan would greet him and chat and share a meal together, but he would skillfully avoid talking about anything heavy and keep the focus on Trunks. He was so good at it that Trunks barely noticed at first, and while a difficult adjustment period was to be expected, it was only a matter of time before Trunks’ slight concern grew to true worry. 

He knew it was bad when Gohan seemed to forget that showering and changing clothes wasn’t optional. Trunks came over with lunch one afternoon and found a frazzled Chi-Chi fussing over an unshaven, unshowered, uncharacteristically mean Gohan. He’d never heard Gohan be anything but respectful to his mother, so to hear him tell her to  _ leave him the fuck alone _ and then lock himself in his room, it was a shock. 

“I don’t know what to do,” Chi-Chi told Trunks tearfully over two steaming cups of tea. “He’s been so angry lately and nothing I do helps. He barely even eats, and you  _ know _ how he normally eats. I think,” she paused and wiped at her cheeks, “I think he needs help.”

Trunks nodded sadly, thinking of all the others he’d heard about who were suffering the same thing. “Yeah. A lot of people need help. I don’t know if… if what we did was the right thing.”

“Oh, Trunks,” Chi-Chi reached over the table and touched his hand, “don’t do that to yourself. You did the right thing. Whatever’s going on with Gohan, I know he’ll be okay eventually. Struggling with him is so much better than struggling without him.”

Trunks nodded, not disagreeing with her, but he also wondered what that made them. Were they selfish monsters, raising the dead without care as to their wishes? Was this fair to Gohan or to any of the others, plunging them back into life on earth with no warning and no real method of reintegration? 

“I’m gonna talk to my mom,” Trunks decided. “We need to do something. Not just for Gohan but for everyone.”

Chi-Chi squeezes his hand. “You’ve grown up into such a good man, Trunks. Goku would be so proud.”

Trunks smiled and squeezed her hand back, but the smile didn’t touch his eyes. 

—

As it turned out, Bulma was way ahead of him. Her first act upon re-establishing Capsule Corp on the global scene was to sponsor an international mental health relief effort for the revived population as well as their loved ones. Along with other wealthy co-sponsors, they rented out large empty buildings in cities across the world and staffed them with nurses, psychologists, therapists, and other crisis workers who would then take any and all patients free of charge. It was the first program of its kind on that kind of scale, and Trunks was awed by what his mother had been able to organize and accomplish in such a short period of time. 

“Well, you know,” she preened as she flipped her freshly shortened hair over her shoulder, dressed to the nines as she prepared to head out for a press conference. “Not only am I a genius and drop dead gorgeous, but I also have a way with words.”

Trunks chuckled, glancing slightly nervously towards his father. He was leaning against a wall in the living room, arms crossed and eyes cast downwards, but he was sure that he was listening in on their conversation. “Hey, uh,” he dropped his voice down to a whisper, “how’s Dad doing, by the way?”

She sighed and waved a hand. “He’s your father. When he’s not training he’s eating through our entire pantry and staring at me like a weirdo so, you know. The usual, even all these years later.”

Trunks swallowed, glancing at Vegeta again and this time finding him glaring back at him. He quickly looked away and muttered, “You know, it took me forever to get on past-Dad’s kind-of-good side, and now I’ve gotta do it all over again.”

Bulma patted his shoulder. “You’ll get there. He loves you, even if he’s allergic to showing it. By the way, want a haircut?” She plucked at a strand of his hair and chuckled. “It’s longer than mine now.”

“Nah, I kinda like it like this,” Trunks shrugged. “So, um… I talked to Chi-Chi last night, and Gohan isn’t doing so well.”

Bulma frowned. “Oh no. What’s going on?”

“He’s become withdrawn, angry. Not himself. Barely eats, doesn’t shower, wears the same clothes for a week.”

Bulma’s hand touched her mouth. “Oh, that poor boy… I can’t even imagine what he must be feeling right now.”

“Me either, which is why I wanted to talk to you about my idea. He really needs help.”

Bulma nodded. “Well, the new facility is opening in West City this Monday. I’ll tell the director there to put his name down and make sure that if he comes in he gets help immediately, straight to the front of the line. I don’t care if it’s unethical, it’s  _ Gohan _ .”

Trunks nodded in relief. “Thanks, Mom. I’ll talk to him.”

“Okay. But be careful, Trunks,” she warned him. “If he’s as bad as you say he is, he’s not gonna be in his right mind and probably not very open to help. Be gentle but firm, okay?”

“Okay,” Trunks nodded again. “I’ll do my best.”

Bulma smiled, touching his cheek. “I know you will.”

—

The next morning, Trunks touched down outside of the Son home to find Gohan busy restocking the family’s supply of firewood. He was reducing an entire cut tree to perfect sized logs using small ki blasts, and he looked just as bad as he had the last time Trunks had come to visit - if not worse. 

Trunks, hair tied back in a loose ponytail and warm in a light blue sweater with the CC logo, walked towards his mentor and made his footsteps noisy just in case Gohan had been too distracted to sense his ki. As he approached him, Trunks asked softly, “Want any help with that?”

“Nah,” Gohan shrugged, clearly bored as he sat on a tree stump, his blasts’ precision impressive and effortless. “This is one of the few useful things I have to do around here.”

Trunks nodded, standing beside Gohan with his hands in his pockets. He was beyond nervous, having barely slept the night before due to his anxiety over this very meeting and the conversation that had to happen. He was scared of how Gohan might respond, terrified that he might just turn and shut Trunks out entirely, and the thought of losing him all over again was simply too much to bear. 

But he needed to do this. Gohan had helped him get his own head on straight once upon a time, and the least that Trunks could do was return the favor. Especially when Gohan’s suffering was partially due to Trunks’ own actions. 

Gohan shifted on the tree stump to make room for Trunks to sit, and Trunks couldn’t help but swallow hard as he saw just how close they’d be sitting to each other. It was no big deal, of course - they’d been plenty close during their training days, and Trunks even remembered falling asleep on him a few times back then - but it still made Trunks’ anxiety climb just a little higher. 

Regardless, he took the offered seat and then slowly turned his gaze and looked up at the man beside him. What he saw broke his heart - dark circles under haunted, sleepless eyes, patchy and unkempt facial hair, and an unnaturally pallid skin tone. Gohan looked like a shell of himself, and it made Trunks want to scream with rage. 

“You gonna say anything or just keep staring at me?”

Trunks flushed with embarrassment and looked away, letting out a shaky breath. “Sorry.”

“I know I look like hell,” Gohan muttered. “But thanks for the confirmation.”

Trunks grimaced, looking up at him again. “When was the last time you slept?”

Gohan shrugged. “Probably before I came back to life.”

Trunks stared at him, hoping like hell that he was exaggerating. “Gohan…”

“Don’t,” Gohan shook his head, dropping his hand and then bringing it to his face to rub at his tired eyes. “Please. I have to hear it enough from my mom, I can’t take it from you, too.”

As much as Trunks tried to hold back his next words, they escaped his mouth anyway. “Do you wish we hadn’t brought you back?”

Gohan slowly sighed, rubbing his palm down his face and then finally dropping it to his thigh, shaking his head as he thousand yard stared into the distance. “No, it’s not that. I wanted to come back. It’s just… I don’t know. I came back to an Earth I don’t know,” he admitted. “My whole life, from the time I can remember, has been one fight after another. It’s all I know. But then I come back and the Androids are dead and the world is rebuilt and everyone’s alive and Earth is at peace and I… it doesn’t feel right.”

Trunks knew just what he meant. Ever since their wishes had restored the earth, he had been walking around with a pit deep in his gut that he couldn’t shake. A substantial part of him was just waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the universe to push back and settle the score again, afraid to embrace anything about the new world when it would likely go up in flames eventually just as the old one had. 

“And it’s not like I  _ want _ death and destruction,” Gohan laughed humorlessly. “I hate it, and I hate fighting. But I don’t know any other way to live. I don’t know what to do now. Or where to even start.”

“You can do anything you want,” Trunks told him. “You can  _ be _ anything you want. You could go to college, be a scholar like you always wanted to.”

Gohan’s jaw clenched. “Yeah. Just fall back into my old groove, pretend like nothing ever happened and like I’m not literally a dead man walking.”

“You’ve gotta start somewhere.”

Gohan snorted. “You’ve got all the answers, huh kid?”

Trunks frowned and looked away. He knew better than to take any of Gohan’s words personally in his current state, but it was next to impossible not to. “I’ve been dead, too. I shouldn’t be here either.”

Gohan turned his eyes on his former student. “Trunks, I was gone for  _ years _ . I was in Otherworld for years. Do you know what that  _ does _ to you?” When Trunks met his gaze and shook his head, Gohan went on, “I looked for you. Every day I looked for you, thinking it was just a matter of time before they killed you next. I waited for you and my mom and my grandpa to show up, but you never did. I didn’t know if maybe you had died and I just couldn’t find you, or if being separated forever was my punishment for not being able to protect all of you.”

Trunks’ heart  _ ached _ . “Gohan -“

“And then, one day out of nowhere I’m pulled out of there and wake up here,” he gestured to his home, “and I’m just - what? Supposed to just go back to normal? Act like nothing ever happened? Eat my mom’s food and hang out with you and go to college, find a girlfriend? It all feels… wrong. Just… trivial.”

Trunks nodded, looking down at his hands in his lap. He could relate, on a less severe level. The Androids had defined his entire existence for so long, and living in a constant state of war had taken its toll on him. He was still working through it and would be for some time, he imagined, but for now he reached into his pocket and pulled out a card that Bulma had given him. 

“A lot of the revived feel the same as you do,” Trunks began. “I don’t know if you’ve seen the news lately, but it’s bad. Really bad. So my mom, she started this initiative,” he handed Gohan the card, and Gohan looked at him skeptically before taking it. “It’s free and open to anyone. You just show up and they’ll take care of you.”

Staring down at the card and realizing what it all meant, Gohan snorted. “So you think a shrink will fix me.”

“It’s not a  _ shrink _ ,” Trunks gently rebutted. “It’s counselors, therapists, psychologists, regular doctors too. They’re there to help. It’s okay to need help sometimes, Gohan. Everyone does.”

“My father didn’t,” Gohan shrugged, the nonchalance of the gesture at odds with the sudden hardness in his eyes. “He died and came back. Wasn’t any different. Nothing ever changed him.”

_ Oh _ . Now Trunks was starting to understand him a little better, he thought. “You’re not your father, Gohan.”

“Yeah,” Gohan gritted his teeth, and Trunks instantly knew he’d said the wrong thing. “Don’t I know it.”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Trunks quickly said, inwardly panicking a little. “Listen, I was around your dad a lot during my trip to the past, and he was - he’s kind of like my dad. They’re… strange,” he admitted. “They live for battle, they welcome death like it’s no big deal. Whatever happens to them, whatever new challenge comes up, it’s like - it’s what they live for. They relish it. But me and you, we’re different. We’re half human and it balances out that Saiyan bloodlust. We fight because we know we’re strong and it’s our duty to protect the Earth. We don’t fight for the thrill of it like they do. And I think we also handle the aftermath a lot differently than they do, too.”

Gohan’s expression only grew darker. “If this is your roundabout way of calling me weak -“

“No!” Trunks exclaimed much more loudly than he’d intended, making Gohan turn his head and make eye contact. “No, dammit Gohan, you’re the strongest person I’ve ever known. Even after meeting our dads. But being strong doesn’t mean never needing help. And asking for help when you know you need it - that’s not  _ weak _ . That  _ is _ strength.”

Gohan stared at him, some of that hard edge in his eyes softening. Then he looked back down to the card in his hand, shaking his head slightly. “Trunks, I… I don’t know if I can do this.”

“You  _ can _ ,” Trunks assured him earnestly. “You can do anything. And if you can’t do it for you,” he swallowed and paused, hoping his next words came out right, “then do it for me. Because I need you.”

And those were the words that broke Gohan. The card disappearing in his clenched fist, his features crumpled and he dropped his head, confessing, “ _ I’m so tired, Trunks _ .” 

Trunks could almost feel the shift within Gohan, the dam breaking and overflowing as tears began to fall from his eyes. Trunks didn’t think twice about pulling Gohan into his arms, cradling Gohan’s head to his chest just as he once had in the rainy streets years ago. But unlike that time, Gohan clutched him back and held him closer, his fist closing around the back of Trunks’ sweater and not letting go as he finally let out the rage and sadness he’d been keeping bottled up since his revival. Trunks didn’t say a word, just holding him and running his fingers through Gohan’s hair, a few tears escaping his own eyes. 

Neither of them noticed Chi-Chi watching from one of the windows of their home, both hands covering her mouth as she sobbed quietly. They were tears of relief more than anything, however, as she sensed that this was the turning point that her baby boy had been desperately needing. 

Trunks closed his eyes and buried his nose into Gohan’s hair, breathing him in and feeling his heart pound strangely in response. He prayed to whatever deity would listen for Gohan to get better, to fight the war raging within him with the same heart he fought physical battles with, because what he’d said was true. He  _ needed _ Gohan, needed him so badly, and he couldn’t bear to lose him a second time. 

—

It wasn’t easy - in fact it was one of the hardest things that Gohan had ever done - but the next day, he showered and shaved and put on fresh clothes and headed to West City. He nearly changed his mind no less than five times on the way there, but every time he found himself on the verge of turning around, he would think of Trunks and his words -  _ then do it for me, because I need you  _ \- and he would keep going. 

When he arrived at the facility, he was shocked to find it the size of an entire stadium. Bulma’s initiative really was massive and groundbreaking, and he was somewhat dazed as he walked in and headed to what looked to be only one of many front desks. What was even stranger was the fact that when he gave his name, he was immediately whisked back ahead of all the others in line, as if he was some sort of mental health VIP. 

He knew who he could blame - or thank - for that. 

To his unending relief, the process of his initial exam wasn't nearly as bad or uncomfortable as he’d feared. Everyone on the staff was friendly and comforting, and by the end of it Gohan felt almost silly for having feared it so badly before. He was assigned a team of professionals who would oversee his care, and his first counseling appointment was made for the next afternoon. They recommended he come twice a week for the time being, and they even told him that if being home was too overwhelming, he could opt for a month of inpatient treatment. He chose to stay at home but promised to come in for each appointment and follow his treatment plan to the letter, Trunks and Chi-Chi’s faces flashing in his mind as he did so. 

It was all for them. If they weren’t around, Gohan knew he’d have let himself simply fade away until he was back in Otherworld where his depression told him he belonged. But for them, he would fight. For his mother he would hang on, and for Trunks he would do everything in his power to be whatever he needed him to be. 

It wouldn’t be easy, but no war worth fighting ever was. 

—

Three months passed. Trunks took a job working alongside Bulma at CC, officially beginning his training to one day take over the company, and Gohan focused solely on his recovery. Their paths didn’t cross as often as Trunks would have liked, but they kept in touch and Trunks was thrilled to see how much progress Gohan had already made. They grabbed lunch together in West City after one of Gohan’s appointments and during Trunks’ break, taking the opportunity to fully catch up after having not seen each other for almost a month. 

“You look great,” Trunks couldn’t help but compliment his mentor, Gohan looking far more like the man he remembered. The dark circles under his eyes were gone, the healthy color had returned to his skin, and the patchy depression beard was long gone. He was dressed casually but nice, his gray t-shirt clinging to muscles that were starting to fill out again. He was eating and sleeping well again, that much was undeniable. 

“Thanks,” Gohan blushed, briefly hiding his face behind the massive burger he’d ordered for lunch. He took a bite and swallowed it down nearly whole before adding, “I must be looking better because I’ve got a date tomorrow night.”

Trunks nearly choked on his noodles. “What?!”

“Yeah,” Gohan admitted shyly, one hand rubbing the back of his head in a very Goku-esque nervous habit. “This nurse that’s always there during my appointments, Videl - she asked me out today.”

Trunks stared at Gohan wide-eyed, his brain malfunctioning as something very very different from happiness began filling his heart. In fact, it was something disturbingly similar to anger and… something else that he was definitely not ready to acknowledge. But he hid all of that behind a smile that he plastered stiffly on his face, lying through his teeth and saying, “Oh - that’s great!”

“Yeah,” Gohan smiled, looking down at his food. “She’s really nice. Pretty, too. Hercule Satan is her dad.”

“The… martial arts champion?”

“Yeah, so she knows how to fight too. We talked about it today on my way out, and she asked me if I wanted to get dinner and spar sometime.”

Trunks shoved more noodles into his mouth to keep himself silent, afraid of what he might blurt out otherwise. He and Gohan hadn’t sparred once since Earth’s restoration. Trunks hadn’t asked him to, thinking it too soon and not sending much of an interest on Gohan’s part. Now he wanted to bang his head into a wall and scream at the idea of some little nurse getting that time with Gohan instead of him. 

“I haven’t been on a date in… yeah, it’s been a long time,” Gohan blinked, paling a little. “I don’t know what I’m doing. Do you think I should cancel? Maybe I’m not ready for this.”

Trunks swallowed down his food and shook his head. “No, you should do it. And don’t worry about it, seriously - just be yourself. She’ll love you.”

“I don’t know if I know how to be myself anymore,” Gohan admitted, nervously running his hand through his hair. “I mean, Kami, I can barely talk to her now without turning red and tripping over my words, so how am I gonna survive an actual date?”

Trunks shrugged. “You’re being yourself right now. Just do that. It’s adorable.” He then realized what he’d said and screamed internally, though on the outside he looked mostly… constipated. 

“It is?” Gohan asked, wide-eyed. Trunks shifted uncomfortably, and Gohan rambled on, “But I’m - what if - ugh, I shouldn’t have said yes. This is a bad idea. I’m nowhere near ready for this, I should just -“

“That’s just anxiety talking,” Trunks assured him, despite how much he wanted to agree with him and urge him to forget the date. “This will be good for you. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen? You just don’t get a second date, no big deal.”

“That’s true,” Gohan mused, leaning his chin on his fist as he seemed to ponder everything. Then he looked up at Trunks and asked, “Would you mind helping me find something decent to wear? I’d ask my mom but her idea of decent is… embarrassingly old fashioned.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Trunks smiled, screaming inwardly again. “We can go shopping later and find you something cool.”

“Thanks, Trunks,” Gohan grinned. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Trunks smiled back, just barely restraining himself from punching a hole into the table between them. 

—

Later that day, Trunks kept his word and took Gohan shopping. Afterwards he came home and knocked on the door of the gravity room where Vegeta was training, and then proceeded to get pummeled into the ground for an hour. He was actually significantly stronger than Vegeta, currently, but like hell was he gonna tell him that and open  _ that _ can of worms, so he held back the bulk of his power and let his father think that he had the advantage over him. It was fine, at least for the time being, because he got what he needed out of it - multiple merciless punches to the face. 

He felt like the worst friend on the planet. Gohan was getting better and had even scored his first date in ages, and all Trunks could do was stew in anger and wish that… well, wish that  _ what _ ? He wasn’t sure he even knew. 

He supposed that he just… wanted Gohan all to himself, like the old days when it was just the two of them literally against the world. But it was silly to want that now, after everything had changed so drastically. Besides, Trunks was all grown up now and had surpassed his master in both strength and skill - it wasn’t as if he needed Gohan’s continued training. 

So where did that leave Trunks? What place did he occupy in Gohan’s life? They shared a bond forged in the fires of war and death but how did that translate now, to the new world they lived in? Maybe they were doomed to drift apart, just seeing each other every few weeks for a meal if they were lucky. Gohan would go on dates and probably eventually become a world renowned scholar, and Trunks would take over Capsule Corp and spend most of his life behind a desk or in a lab. Maybe he’d find a wife eventually and have a couple of quarter-Saiyan kids, and he’d get to see Gohan when their children had play dates together. 

The very thought made him nauseous. It was wrong, it was  _ all _ wrong, and his skin crawled and heart ached at the thought of becoming nothing more than an old friend of Gohan’s. 

But if that was what would make Gohan happy - if Videl would prove to make him happy - then who was Trunks to object? 

—

Two more months passed. Gohan and Videl’s first date turned into many more, and Trunks lost himself in his work. 

Gohan and Videl seemed quite happy together, or at least that’s what Trunks gathered after enduring a dinner party with them that Bulma has insisted on throwing. Trunks picked at his food and wore a polite smile, finding Videl perfectly pleasant and sweet and knowing there was no logical reason to hate her, but  _ Kami _ did he hate her. He could have reached across the table and grabbed her by the throat and threw her through the nearest window and he wouldn’t have felt a shred of remorse. 

That was a lie, of course. He would have felt a little bit of remorse. Plus it probably would have pissed Gohan off, and he wouldn’t dare do anything to bring a frown to that face. 

So he wore a brave smile and endured the dinner and the small talk afterwards, breathing a sigh of relief only after they’d finally left. That was when Bulma had asked Trunks what was wrong, damn well knowing him enough to know when he was hiding his misery under a smile, but he ignored her and decided to go blow off some steam in the wilderness. He didn’t have the patience that night to pretend to be weaker than his father and take his blows, needing instead to go somewhere alone where he could unleash his full power and scare the crap out of the local wildlife. 

And that was exactly what he did. He stood looming in midair over the barren, rural wasteland that he’d flown to, closing his eyes and concentrating all of his anger and dejection into a ball of energy that soon exploded from his hands and left a massive crater in the ground. He then let go, throwing his head back and raising his fists and letting out a guttural roar as his power enveloped his body in a golden glow. It climbed higher and higher, lighting up the wilderness and crackling with electricity all around him, long lavender hair burning bright yellow in high, messy spikes, and  _ fuck _ it felt good. Being half human might help bring balance to Saiyan instincts, but it didn’t mean that Saiyan side of him didn’t need a release every now and then. 

He was enjoying the high, breathing deep and relishing in the otherworldly energy coursing through his veins, feeling strangely at home as he gazed up into the sky and found the full moon staring back at him. It held his attention until a familiar ki signature tickled at his own, and he whipped his head around only to nearly fall right out of the sky at what he saw. 

It was Gohan, looking like he’d just rolled out of bed in gray sweatpants and a blue tank, hovering not far away and wearing a painfully familiar grin on his scarred face. He didn’t even flinch as he powered up too, golden aura bathing his handsome features and taking Trunks right back to being 14 and in utter awe of his master. 

Trunks grinned back, and that was all Gohan needed. A blink of an eye later, Gohan had closed the distance between them and thrown a fist towards Trunks’ face, but Trunks caught it easily. 

Gohan’s grin widened. “Don’t you dare go easy on me, kid.”

Trunks smirked back. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Master.”

And then they were off, a mere blur to the naked eye as they traded barbs and blows in the air, the ground quaking beneath them every time their bodies connected. It was brutal and glorious and everything Trunks had been desperately needing for so very long, and for the first time since his journey to the past and then to New Namek… he felt like he was home. 

It could have lasted hours and he never would have known, time becoming inconsequential in the shadow of the passion of their fight. They didn’t stop until they were both utterly spent, collapsing on the ground next to each other in bruised, slightly bloody heaps. They’d be feeling the fight for the next week and Trunks loved it, loved the soreness in his muscles and the ache in his arms and thighs, the satisfying post-exertion throb making him feel more at peace than he had in a long time. 

“Phew,” Gohan eventually chuckled, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. “I needed that.”

“Me too,” Trunks replied, glancing over and blinking in surprise. He hadn’t noticed until then how Gohan’s clothes had been mostly torn off during their spar, his tank completely gone and his sweatpants now little more than tattered shorts. Trunks watched as that broad chest heaved up and down with every heavy breath, watched the trickles of sweat travel down the pale skin and across his abs, and Trunks didn’t realize that he was staring until Gohan asked, “You okay, Trunks?”

He blushed furiously and snapped his eyes up, nodding quickly and looking away. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just exhausted now.” He paused, trying to will the redness in his cheeks away and think of anything to say to lessen his embarrassment. He settled on, “Wasn’t expecting to see you out here tonight.”

“Well,” Gohan sighed, “I couldn’t sleep. Then I felt your ki explode and wanted to make sure nothing was wrong.”

Trunks’ gaze falling back to the moon above them, he replied softly, “Yeah, should have thought of that. Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I think maybe we should do this more often.”

Trunks glanced over to him, a smile tugging at his lips. “Really?” When Gohan nodded, Trunks added, “I don’t wanna take you away from your girl.”

Something complicated flitted across Gohan’s face. “No, it’s fine. I’ll always make time for you.”

His heart warming, Trunks looked away before Gohan could catch the faint blush on his cheeks. They laid there in silence under the stars until Gohan spoke again. 

“She… Videl wanted me to stay at her place tonight,” he murmured. “But I just… I couldn’t. I can’t.”

Trunks turned back to him, concern in his blue eyes. Did he really mean… 

“And it’s pathetic, I know,” he sighed, rubbing at his eyes. “We’ve been dating three months now and I’ve barely done more than kiss her.”

Trunks was both shocked at this information and… well… rather happy about it. But he ignored that and focused on the matter at hand. “Why?”

Gohan shrugged, draping his arm over his forehead. “Hell if I know. She’s so patient and good to me but I can tell she’s getting frustrated. Not out of selfishness or anything, but because I’m worrying her, I think.”

“Well… taking things slow is… good,” Trunks replied, choosing his words carefully. “You’ll get there.”

“What if I don’t?” Gohan asked, not taking his eyes off the sky. “What if I’m broken?”

Trunks furrowed his brows. “Broken?”

Gohan grimaced and clammed up, seemingly embarrassed. Trunks had a feeling he knew why. 

“Do you not  _ want _ to sleep with her?”

“ _ I _ do,” Gohan replied. “But my body doesn’t seem to.”

Oh.  _ Oh _ . Blushing again, Trunks looked back towards the moon and licked his lips, unsure of where to go from here. He wracked his brain for a moment or two and finally said, “Well, that can be a depression symptom, so maybe -“

“Nah, it’s not that,” Gohan muttered. “I think it’s partially because I’m afraid I’ll accidentally hurt her, and partially because… she’s just… she’s so  _ light _ , Trunks. She’s sweet and innocent and badass and everything I could ever ask for in a woman, but she’s… normal.” 

Eyes fixed on Gohan again, Trunks echoed, “Normal?”

“She survived the Androids,” Gohan explained. “Her dad was wealthy enough to take them somewhere safe and hide out. Before that, she went to school like a normal kid, had a normal life and family. She’s amazing, but… we’re so different. I want it to work, I  _ want _ to want her, but I just…”

“... You don’t,” Trunks finished quietly. 

Gohan nodded, his expression growing unbearably sad. “I don’t.”

Inwardly throwing a party and grooving to an obnoxious victory dance, Trunks replied, “Then you’ll find someone else. Just because she’s not right for you doesn’t mean there isn’t someone who is.”

Gohan snorted. “Yeah, ‘cause I’m a real catch. No job, no left arm, spend half my week in therapy, plus I was dead for five years. Who wouldn’t wanna date me? I’m sure  _ tons _ of women out there can relate to what I’ve been through.”

_ No _ , Trunks thought unexpectedly,  _ but I can. _

“I didn’t mean to unload all of this on you, though,” Gohan sighed, looking at Trunks apologetically. “Sorry. You have better things to do besides listening to me whine.”

Trunks smiled at him softly. “I’d much rather be here with you than anywhere else.” 

Gohan seemed surprised by the sentiment, and Trunks was surprised that he’d actually said the words out loud. On the outside he was calm but on the inside he was on the verge of experiencing an epiphany that he’d been resisting for months, knowing damn well that no good could come of it. But it was pushing back, refusing to be held down any longer, and Trunks knew everything was about to change. At least for him. 

Gohan watched him silently for a moment, his gaze a little curious. He seemed to be searching for something in Trunks’ features, trying to decipher something, but Trunks would never know if he succeeded or not. 

“Thanks, Trunks,” Gohan finally smiled back. “I should get going, get some sleep while I still can.”

Trunks nodded, getting to his feet to help Gohan stand up. Once they were both up, Trunks nervously smoothed down his now-tangled long hair and asked, “So, wanna do this again in a few days?”

Gohan grinned. “Definitely. I’ve gotta step up my game, make sure you don’t leave me in the dust.”

Trunks grinned back. “Might be a little late for that, Master.”

Gohan raised a brow. “Is that  _ pride _ I hear? Guess you are your father’s son after all.”

“Maybe,” Trunks teased. “Guess we’ll find out.”

“Guess we will.”

Then Gohan smirked and took off into the sky, and Trunks didn’t look away until after he’d disappeared from sight. His grin stayed on his face until then, at which point it faded completely and that familiar feeling of dread and terror took hold in his gut. 

He was in love with Gohan. He had tried to fight it, tried to deny it, tried to ignore it, but yet there the truth was. He was in love with his master, his best friend, his  _ everything _ , and he feared that he always would be. 

He was fucked. 

—

Trunks went home that night only to have his retinas irreparably burnt to a crisp by the scene he found unfolding in the kitchen between his parents. No amount of brain bleach would ever make him unsee his mother bent over the kitchen table by his father, and he was pretty sure that she was equally as traumatized by the whole ordeal. Either way, he ran away literally screaming from  _ that _ and took refuge in his room, resigning himself to never being able to look anyone in the eye again - not Gohan, and now not even his parents. 

Which was great. It was fantastic. Everything was  _ fine _ . 

(Everything was  _ not _ fine, of course, but that was beside the point.)

In the coming days, Trunks endured being yelled at by Bulma (“yes, Trunks, I have sex with your father - get over it! Every kid walks in on their parents sometimes, get over it and stop looking at me like that!”) and then by Vegeta (“did the woman never teach you to knock, boy? No, I don’t care that it was the kitchen - have the decency to knock first, you imbecile, and maybe you won’t see things that you are too weak to handle!”), and finally by Chi-Chi (“have you been getting my Gohan to train with you in the middle of the night? He needs his sleep, you know! He’s working on his college applications, and he doesn’t need you distracting him with silly old fighting!”). Everywhere he went he was faced with deep levels of discomfort and awkwardness, and he couldn’t even seek refuge in Gohan because he  _ was in love with him _ and couldn’t stop thinking about him. 

His epiphany opened the floodgates that he’d barely been holding shut for so long, and now the full force of his emotions were crashing down on him and leaving him reeling nearly every waking moment. Thinking about Gohan wasn’t such a simple, easy thing anymore, like it used to be. No, now it was a chaotic, heady, frightening thing, his mind getting away from him every time he let his thoughts drift towards his master. 

He thought about how lucky he was to have Gohan back, how  _ right _ it felt to just be in his presence and hear his voice again. He thought about when they sparred and about the electric currents that gripped them both whenever they touched, the raw power and strength that neither of them would ever find in anyone else, and how satisfying it was to give into their Saiyan natures with each other. He thought about the way Gohan had looked as they laid on the ground, his clothes torn and skin glistening with sweat and peppered with bruises that Trunks had given him, his face tranquil and hair a beautifully dampened mess on his head. 

He thought about Gohan’s confession, of how he couldn’t bring himself to touch Videl or let her touch him. He imagined what might have happened had the night gone a different way - if Trunks had been brave and slipped closer to him, telling Gohan that he could give him what Videl couldn’t, if he’d have him. He would have touched him gently, brought his face closer to his, kissed him softly and let Gohan choose whether to pull him closer or push him away. The kiss would have deepened slowly, Gohan kissing him back tentatively at first but then passionately, and then Trunks would have climbed on top of him and pressed their bodies together and slipped his tongue into Gohan’s mouth and then - 

And then Bulma cleared her throat pointedly, because Trunks was fantasizing about seducing his master in the middle of a board meeting. 

So, yeah. Like he said, everything was  _ fine _ . 

Despite his inner turmoil, Trunks and Gohan began sparring a few nights a week just like they’d planned. Those nights were the best parts of the week for both men, and even though Trunks felt more self-conscious and anxious around Gohan than he ever had before, he hid it well. He simply enjoyed Gohan’s company too much to allow his feelings to get in the way of their friendship. And if he went home every night and shivered under the covers as his mind ran wild with increasingly filthy fantasies of the two of them - well, Gohan never needed to know that. 

Gohan would never feel the same way, Trunks knew that. He seemed to only be interested in women and even if he wasn’t, he would probably always see Trunks as the lanky little teenager he’d taken under his wing all those years ago. They had no future like  _ that _ , and Trunks accepted that. He planned to pine over and love Gohan until the day he died and never breathe a word of it to anyone, then die with the secret buried in his heart. 

It might have been a bit dramatic of a plan, but Trunks was the son of Bulma and Vegeta - drama was in his veins. He couldn’t help  _ that _ . All he could do was keep his head up and his feelings down, and brave each day that he woke up to. This was his life now, and that was fine. He could handle it. He could do this. He would be fine. 

And then one night less than a month following his big realization, everything changed. 

—

“Damn,” Gohan moaned around a mouthful of melted marshmallow and chocolate, “I haven’t had a smore in  _ years _ .”

Trunks tried not to stare as Gohan licked a drop of chocolate off of his upper lip, but really he never had a chance. He couldn’t look away, and that moan had gone into his ears and headed straight down to his c- 

“Hey, you’re burning your marshmallow.”

“Oh fucking fuck,” Trunks cursed as he yanked the now-blackened marshmallow off the fire, hoping that Gohan - who was laughing at him - couldn’t see his blush in the dim light. It was well after midnight and they’d finished their spar awhile ago, both of them starving and ready for the snack that had been Trunks’ idea. Now he was wishing he’d brought something prepackaged and less easy to screw up. 

“Here,” Gohan said, taking the stick from Trunks and cleaning it off, then popping another marshmallow on and setting it on the fire. “Let the master show how it’s done.”

Trunks rolled his eyes but shivered a little anyway, shaking his hair out of his face. “Yeah yeah.”

Gohan smirked and proceeded to roast the fluffy thing to perfection, and then he took it upon himself to assemble the smore himself, one-handed. He handed it over to Trunks with a grin, and Trunks snatched it out of his hand and muttered, “Thanks, I guess.”

Gohan chuckled. “You’re welcome.”

Trunks felt Gohan watching him as he ate the smore, and he tried to ignore it until his self-consciousness simply couldn’t take it anymore. He glanced his way and asked, “What? Do I have something on my face?”

“No,” Gohan shook his head, turning away. “No, I just…” he looked back at Trunks and smiled. “Sometimes when I look at you I still expect to see the kid who asked me to train him. But you’re all grown up now. Hard to recognize you sometimes under all those muscles and that long hair.”

Trunks felt his face catch fire, looking down and touching the ends of his hair absently. “Yeah, I’m way overdue for a cut.”

“No,” Gohan replied softly. “I think it suits you.”

Trunks looked at him in surprise, his insides mimicking an entire colony of butterflies with how wildly they were fluttering. “Thanks.” When Gohan wasn’t the one to break eye contact like he normally was, Trunks looked away and pretended to suddenly find the fire absolutely fascinating. 

He wished Gohan wouldn’t say things like that. Gohan had no idea what it did to him to hear those things, and how much harder it made it for Trunks to act normally around him. And dammit he couldn’t ruin this, absolutely could  _ not _ put their friendship in jeopardy. He’d never forgive himself if he did. 

“Hey,” Gohan poked him in the side with a stick. “Where’d you go?”

Trunks blinked and realized he’d been staring rather intensely at the fire, probably resembling his father’s default glare. “Nowhere,” he chuckled, playing it off. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Gohan assured him, handing him another freshly assembled smore. Trunks took it gratefully, eager to have something to do with his hands. 

After a brief silence, Trunks decided to make conversation before things got weird again. Unfortunately, the thing he decided to say was, “So, how’s Videl.”

“She’s fine,” Gohan replied lightly. “We broke up last week.”

Trunks nearly choked. “What?! You did? Oh man, I’m sorry, Gohan. I wouldn’t have asked if I’d known.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” Gohan waved him off. “It wasn’t ugly or anything. It was just time. We both knew it wasn’t going anywhere. Maybe if things were different it would have worked, but…”

Trunks nodded. “Still, that’s rough.”

“It’s life,” Gohan shrugged. “It was actually kind of a relief.”

And now that he mentioned it, Gohan  _ had _ seemed in better spirits for the past week. He’d also been coming around to see Trunks more, even bringing him lunch at work one day out of the blue. If no more Videl meant more time with Gohan all to himself, then this was great news indeed. Especially if Gohan wasn’t heartbroken at all over it. 

“How about you?” Gohan asked. “I saw you on the cover of a magazine the other day, something about being West City’s most eligible bachelor.”

Trunks groaned and buried his face in his hands. “Oh Kami, just don’t. I should sue that damn rag.”

Gohan pushed him good-naturedly. “Hey, it’s true though. What girl wouldn’t want a shot at you? Rich and smart and strong… funny colored hair but hey, nobody’s perfect -“

“Hey!” Trunks punched his arm, and Gohan laughed while pretending to be gravely wounded. “My hair is  _ unique _ , not funny.”

“That’s true,” Gohan relented. “It’s not your hair that’s funny, it’s your name.”

Trunks picked up a handful of marshmallows and pelted Gohan in the face with them as the older man leaned over laughing. “Trying to get punched again, asshole?”

Gohan feigned outrage. “Damn, that’s how you talk to your master? Somebody oughta teach you some respect, kid.”

“Aren’t you my teacher?” Trunks shot back, a grin playing at his lips. “Guess you’ve been slacking.”

“Maybe I have,” Gohan sighed, his smile lingering on his face. Then he looked up to the sky, eyes flickering between the stars before he slowly pushed up to his feet and stretched. 

“Ready to head home?” Trunks guessed, even though he wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye tonight. 

“No, actually I was thinking of taking a swim,” Gohan replied, nodding towards a lake that sparkled just over the hill to their left. “Wanna come with me?”

Knowing better than to trust himself being undressed and wet around Gohan, Trunks shook his head. “Nah, you can go on ahead.”

Gohan paused, on the verge of saying something but ultimately keeping his mouth shut. He then nodded and began heading his way towards the lake, and Trunks silently berated himself for being such a coward. 

Deciding to pass the time by roasting another marshmallow, Trunks sighed and wondered what the hell he was even doing with his life. His plan to pine secretly after Gohan and then die someday was already not going very well, and he had no idea how the hell he could keep up it for… well, forever. Eventually he was gonna slip up and say or do something to give himself away, and then he’d lose Gohan entirely. And what would happen then? 

“ _ Hey Trunks!” _

Trunks blinked and cursed as he realized he’d burned another marshmallow. Chucking the stick into the dirt, he yelled back towards his mentor, “Yeah?”

“Would you mind giving me a hand real quick?”

Trunks didn’t think twice before putting out the fire with a wave of his hand, then getting up to walk to the edge of the lake. As soon as he crossed over the hill and the water came into view, so did the man wading within it. The water covered him from the waist down, and Trunks had to look away before he stared like an idiot and made a fool of himself again. The problem was that he instead decided to look at the pile of clothes laying next to the lake that Gohan had left behind, and  _ oh no  _ his boxers were right there with his gi. He was naked in that water. 

“What do you need?” Trunks asked as he approached the edge, grimacing when his voice came out a little too high at first. 

Gohan swam up to Trunks’ feet and placed his arm on the bank. “Come here, lemme show you something.”

Trunks leaned forward, a little annoyed and a lot hoping he wasn’t blushing too hard. He was doing way too much of that lately. “What?”

“Little closer.”

_ Dammit _ . “Gohan, w-“

Gohan grinned and seized the front of Trunks’ shirt. “Gotcha.” Then he threw Trunks into the water fully clothed and yelping, regrettably, like a little girl. 

Trunks resurfaced sputtering indignantly, flailing and screeching, “What the hell!”

Gohan laughed heartily, relaxing against the lake’s edge. “Sorry, I couldn’t help it.”

Trunks pushed his now-soaked hair out of his face, grimacing at the feeling of his clothes clinging heavily to his limbs. “Ugh! What is it with you throwing me into water?”

Gohan shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe I just like seeing you wet.”

Trunks’ eyes widened. That was… not what he was expecting to hear. He blinked and opened his mouth but then Gohan disappeared beneath the water with a concerningly predatory look on his face, and Trunks knew that he was in trouble. 

His suspicions were confirmed when a ki-blast powered wave suddenly broke over him with no warning, knocking him underwater and sending him flailing once more.  _ So that’s how it’s gonna be, _ Trunks thought to himself as he powered up and felt his shirt rip to shreds with the force of it. Feeling much less constricted now, he took a deep breath and then dove down, ready to give Gohan the watery fight he seemed to want. 

In a tree next to the lake, an owl watched curiously as the water rumbled and rippled strangely, bright golden bursts of light illuminating the water and sometimes escaping up into the sky before burning out. Its little feathered head tilted as it followed the increasingly intense waves that splashed over the lake’s edge, and then its charmingly huge eyes widened when a stray ki blast headed straight for the tree that it was perched in. The owl flew away with an offended  _ hoot _ just before impact, the tree snapping in half and landing on the ground with a noisy thud. 

Trunks and Gohan’s heads resurfaced then, both men sucking down deep breaths and looking at the tree they’d accidentally felled. 

“Whoops,” Gohan cringed. 

Trunks narrowed his eyes at Gohan and decided that this was the opening he needed. He flew through the water and kneed his mentor hard right in his stomach, catching him off guard and not stopping until Gohan’s back hit the rocky edge of the lake hard. Trunks kept him pinned there, finding a strange satisfaction in the way that Gohan cried out in pain at the attack. He knew Gohan wasn’t  _ really _ hurt, after all, so he had no shame in enjoying his little moment of victory. 

“Fuck,” Gohan groaned, wincing as he met Trunks’ haughty gaze, both men powering down. “You got me.”

Trunks grinned, letting his knee straighten and then realizing in slight horror that his hands were on either side of Gohan’s head, caging him in against the rocks. They were entirely too close, too worked up, too - everything, and he had to pull away before he - 

“Trunks,” Gohan murmured, stopping Trunks’ inner panic in its tracks. Icy blue eyes met black ones and Trunks found himself unable to move as he waited for Gohan to speak. It took him a few seconds, but he finally managed a quiet, “Why did you bring me back?”

Trunks furrowed his brows at the unexpected and frankly absurd question. “What?”

“Just answer me,” Gohan demanded softly. “Why did you bring me back?”

“Because I -“  _ Because I love you, idiot _ . “Because you’re…”  _ You’re everything to me.  _ “You’re my best friend, and my master. You lost your arm protecting me and lost your life trying to save the world. I’d be nothing without you - the world would be nothing without you.”

But Gohan wasn’t satisfied by that. “Trunks,” he repeated gently, desperately, “ _ why did you bring me back? _ ”

Trunks swallowed hard, searching those dark eyes for something to guide him through this strange, heavy moment, but all that he found there was  _ need _ . Gohan needed more than pretty words, more than what Trunks’ rational mind could give him, so he decided to be brave and reckless and let his heart speak instead. 

“Because I love you,” Trunks finally confessed. His voice was low and shaky and he meant those words with every fiber of his being. He had loved Gohan first as a friend and as a teacher, then as a brother, and now… now there was no way in which he  _ didn’t _ love Gohan. 

And  _ that _ was what Gohan had needed to hear. The desperation drained from his eyes and was replaced by something else, something that Trunks had never seen before, and he watched as Gohan took a deep breath and closed his eyes. 

“ _ Kami forgive me _ ,” he whispered up into the heavens, and then he leaned forward and kissed Trunks. 

Trunks stopped breathing. The world may have stopped spinning, too, and time might have stood still. Warm, nervous lips were pressed to his own, and a large hand was tentatively holding the back of his head, and Trunks was  _ sure _ that he was dreaming. This was surely just one of his silly fantasies, and any minute he’d wake up to find himself in his bed or in the board room or - 

Gohan pulled away slowly and opened his eyes to find Trunks staring back wide-eyed and shocked, seemingly frozen in place. The hope drained out of Gohan’s face, and regret filled his eyes as he gripped the back of Trunks’ neck and whispered, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. Please, Trunks, don’t let this ruin what we h-“

Trunks cut him off with a hard, almost frantic kiss, snapping out of his stupor when he realized he was possibly ruining everything by just staring like an idiot. His hands flew to Gohan’s face and held it fiercely as he kissed Gohan with the sort of passion that could never be mistaken for anything but painfully real. To touch him like that and taste him like that was nothing short of a dream come true, an intoxicating moment that he would be happy to spend his days reliving in an infinite loop if he could. Gohan was warm and sweet and  _ real _ and he was kissing him back, and this moment alone made  _ everything _ he’d been through to get there worth it. 

They kissed until they each broke away panting, foreheads pressed together and Gohan pulling Trunks back to his lips as soon as he’d caught his breath. Trunks melted into him, happily letting himself be turned and pressed against the rocks as Gohan reversed their positions, never breaking their kiss. Trunks gasped at the first careful slide of Gohan’s tongue in his mouth, punctuated by the hot press of the larger, bare body against his in the water, and it was -  _ Kami _ , he’d never felt anything better. 

But then Gohan broke away suddenly, brows furrowed and conflict etched on his features as he murmured, “Trunks, I…”

Trunks pulled Gohan back, arms wrapped around him as he pressed his lips to the side of his neck. Gohan groaned as Trunks licked and nipped and kissed all over him, down to his collarbone and then up to his jawline, Gohan’s hand half-heartedly landing on Trunks’ shoulder to just barely nudge him away. 

“We shouldn’t,” Gohan whispered, even though his body clearly disagreed with him. Trunks could feel him hot and hard against his thigh, he knew Gohan wanted this - wanted  _ him _ . 

“Shhh,” Trunks hushed him, leaning up and pressing a ghost of a kiss to his lips. He slid his slightly shaky fingertips into Gohan’s messy black hair, his other palm trailing down his chest and  _ fuck _ he’d wanted to do this for so long. 

“Trunks,” Gohan protested weakly, even as he leaned into Trunks’ every touch and chased his lips after every kiss. 

“ _ Master _ ,” Trunks whispered against his lips, and that was what broke Gohan. He cursed low and rough and then crushed his lips to Trunks’ own, taking the control back and pressing against him hard, making their cocks grind together through the wet fabric of Trunks’ pants. They both gasped at the friction, clinging to each other and rocking and kissing until they had to have more. Trunks reached down to undo his pants but Gohan beat him to it, impatiently  _ tearing _ the fabric right off and then gripping his cock in his fist as he buried his face in Trunks’ neck, kissing and biting and all but  _ claiming _ him. 

Trunks felt like he was flying. It felt so good, so  _ right _ , and he didn’t try to stop himself from moaning and letting Gohan know just how perfect it was. He held on to him tightly, nails biting into Gohan’s back, surrendering to the pleasure licking up his spine from Gohan’s hand working him under the water. Gohan was rutting into his thigh in the same rhythm as his hand, and Trunks shuddered when Gohan growled against his neck and then raised his head to kiss the hell out of him once more. Trunks gasped into the kiss, daring to be bold and let one hand slide down to grab at Gohan’s ass, pulling him closer and encouraging him to move harder against him. 

The fever between them already growing critical, they broke their kiss only to pant against each other’s mouths and revel in the moment, in the delicious pleasure neither had felt in… maybe ever. But Gohan needed more, and he lacked the will to hold himself back and bite his tongue. 

“Trunks,” he whispered, nudging their noses together, drowning in the sound of Trunks’ sweet little moans and heavy breaths, “tell me again. Please.”

Trunks opened his heated blue eyes and looked up questioningly, but it didn’t take long for him to know what Gohan was asking for. One look into those eyes, normally guarded but beautifully naked right now, and he knew what Gohan needed from him. 

“I love you,” Trunks told him, reaching up to trace the scar on his cheek. A constant reminder of when Gohan saved his life and lost pieces of himself as a result. “I love you,” Trunks murmured again, pressing a hot, deep kiss to his lips. “I love you  _ so much _ . I think I always have.”

Gohan squeezed his eyes shut, pressing their foreheads together and stiffening up all over as a sudden and powerful orgasm wracked through him. Trunks kept his eyes open, watching Gohan’s face go slack and lips part, mentally committing every detail of the beautiful moment to his memory just in case he never got to see anything like it again. 

Then Gohan slowly opened his eyes, staring at Trunks for a few long seconds and then kissing him so long and so deep it made Trunks’ toes curl. All the while Gohan’s hand sped up, bringing him right to the edge and not stopping until Trunks gasped and saw stars burst behind his eyes. He shook and clung to Gohan as he spilled over in his hand, knowing that Gohan was watching just as Trunks had watched him, and it only intensified the waves of bliss to levels he didn’t know were even possible. He might have compared it to heaven had he not already known that this was far,  _ far _ better. 

His head resting on Gohan’s shoulder, the two men stayed in each other’s arms as they slowly recovered. Gohan’s hand softly skimmed up and down Trunks’ back, his lips pressing little soft kisses to Trunk’s hair, and Trunks couldn’t help but sigh in complete contentment - this was everything he could have ever asked for and more. 

When Trunks finally leaned back to smile up at his master, Gohan smiled back. Trunks felt himself blush when Gohan reached up to gently trace his cheekbone with his thumb, trailing it down towards his lips. Trunks pressed a soft kiss to the digit, never breaking eye contact, and just when he thought things couldn’t get any better… they took a turn in the  _ other _ direction. 

Gohan’s eyes slowly shifted from relaxed and happy to conflicted and distant. Slowly his brows began to furrow and his hand dropped, and Trunks felt a thrill of panic race through his veins. He was losing him. 

“Gohan -“

“I’m sorry,” Gohan shook his head, pulling away from Trunks and leaving him feeling suddenly cold. “I shouldn’t have…” Gohan clamped his mouth shut, looking at Trunks one last time with regret written on his face. Then he turned and climbed out of the lake as fast as he could while Trunks stayed frozen where he was, his previously soaring heart shattering right there in his chest. 

Trunks watched as Gohan threw his clothes back on and then launched into the sky without a word or even a glance back in Trunks’ direction. Trunks blinked after he disappeared from sight and dropped his eyes down to the water gently lapping at his skin, his vision slowly blurring until his eyes burned. It was only when he blinked again that he realized he was crying. 

—

Trunks didn’t sleep that night. When morning came he dragged himself into the shower and then forced himself to trudge out to the kitchen for breakfast, even though he’d have much rather stayed in bed and moped all day. But he knew he had to go through the motions lest he tip off his mother that anything was wrong, because he just couldn’t handle her well-meaning but suffocating attention right now. 

Wet hair thrown back into a careless bun and stomach barely grumbling despite how hungry he should have been, Trunks wandered into the kitchen and took a seat at his usual spot at the table. Vegeta was already there, stuffing his face at an alarming rate like always, and Bulma was pulling out a pan of muffins from the oven when she noticed her son’s arrival. 

“Hey, kiddo!” Bulma greeted him happily, grabbing a giant plate of bacon that she’d hidden from Vegeta in order to save it for Trunks. She set it in front of him and then paused, looking at him with sudden concern. “You okay, Trunks?”

He groaned inwardly, grabbing a handful of bacon and feeling both of his parents’ eyes on him. “I’m fine, Mom. Just tired.”

“Are you sick? You look sick,” Bulma frowned, touching Trunks’ forehead. 

He brushed her hand away and faked a chuckle. “Mom, seriously, I’m fine -“

“Oh my God,” Bulma’s eyes landed on his neck and promptly bugged out. “What happened to your neck?!”

_ Oh no _ . Trunks’ eyes widened and he froze, having completely forgotten to hide the bite marks that Gohan had left. He must have shifted just right to make the collar of his t-shirt move and…

Bulma grabbed the shirt and yanked his collar aside, gasping when she saw the full mark. “Is this - did someone  _ bite _ you?!”

Face on fire, Trunks refused to meet her concerned and slightly frightened gaze. He did sneak a glance at Vegeta, who was still stuffing his face but was also watching the scene unfold rather intently. Which was just  _ great _ . 

“Trunks Briefs, answer me right now!”

“Fuck, Mom, back off!” he snapped suddenly, standing up and making the chair knock over behind him. Bulma froze a little at the uncharacteristic outburst, and Trunks immediately felt a sickening rush of guilt. He frowned and turned, stomping out of the kitchen and feeling even worse than he already had. 

He didn’t really know where he was going or even where he wanted to go, but he ended up sitting in the backyard just outside the door with his head in his hands. He knew that Bulma wouldn’t be far behind, and when he heard her quiet footsteps and felt her weak but comforting ki, he wondered if he’d known what he needed after all. 

“All right, Trunks,” Bulma said quietly as she sat next to him. “Tell me what the hell’s going on. I know you and you’re not yourself today. You actually look like hell.”

Trunks snorted humorlessly, rubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah, I noticed.”

She bumped his shoulder with her own. “Come on, sweetie. It’s  _ me _ . You know you can tell me anything.” When she saw his eyes grow a little shiny at those words, she became even more worried. “Did… did someone hurt you?”

“Not physically,” Trunks muttered. He then took a deep breath and decided to just let it out, knowing there was nobody safer in the world to open up to than his mother. “I’m in love, Mom.”

Her eyes widened. “In love? With who? Is it that secretary with the red hair who’s always sniffing after you because I swear to Kami I’ll cut her if she did anything to hurt you.”

“No,” Trunks scoffed. “No.”

“Then who? I can’t think of any other girls.”

“That’s because it’s not a girl,” Trunks muttered, bracing himself for whatever reaction  _ that _ might cause. Bulma was liberally minded and had always been his greatest source of unconditional support, but a part of him still feared what she might think of him now. 

“Oh.” Bulma didn’t even blink, perhaps not expecting that but not objecting to it. The wheels continued to turn in her head, and it wasn’t long before she gasped and said, “Oh, sweetie - it’s Gohan, isn’t it?”

And just like that, to his horror, Trunks was crying again. 

Bulma wrapped an arm around him while he told her the entire story from start to finish, leaving out the saucier details and focusing instead on the parts that wouldn’t traumatize them both. By the end his eyes were red-rimmed and his cheeks embarrassingly wet, but he had no shame in him left to bother caring that he was literally crying in his mother’s arms. 

“So now I don’t know what to do,” he sniffed. “He looked at me like he was… horrified or disgusted or something and left without saying a word, like he couldn’t get away from me fast enough. I don’t know if I did something wrong or…”

Bulma sighed, running her fingers through her son’s hair. “I doubt you did anything wrong. Listen, Gohan… he used to be the sweetest kid. He was so  _ open _ and loving and just…  _ Gohan _ . But then Goku died and it changed him. He had to grow up so fast… and then the androids happened and he lost all of his friends too, besides us. Even when you take out his death and resurrection, he’s still been through too much for one man to take. It all takes a heavy toll.”

“I know,” Trunks muttered. “And I understand that. I understand what he’s been through, I’m probably the only one who can.”

“And maybe that scares him,” Bulma replied softly. “Plus it probably doesn’t help that he’s so much older than you and remembers you as a baby.”

Trunks grumbled under his breath. “But I’m not a baby. I’m a grown man - and we’re basically the same age now.”

“Technically yes, but look at it from his perspective - you were 14 when he died. Then he comes back and everything’s different and you’re all grown up and it’s just a lot to adjust to. If he has feelings for you - and it sounds like he does - I bet he has a lot of guilt for it. And it hasn’t even been six months yet since we made those wishes. I’m amazed that he’s doing as well as he is.”

Trunks mulled those words over, his frown deepening. When she put it like that, it was easy for him to feel a sudden rush of deep guilt. But… “He kissed me first, though. I didn’t push him.” Or did he? Gohan  _ did _ try to pull away after those initial kisses, and Trunks  _ did _ persuade him to keep going… 

“I think he just needs some time,” Bulma said. “Be patient with him. I’m sure he’ll come around.”

“What if he doesn’t? I can’t lose him, Mom,” Trunks said, tears forming anew at the mere thought. “I  _ can’t _ .”

“You won’t,” Bulma reassured him. “Look at everything you’ve overcome together and the odds you’ve beaten - you’ll find your way this time, too.”

As Trunks tried to believe his mother’s comforting words, his father stood just inside the house with his back to the wall, arms crossed and listening to the entire conversation. Once it was over he huffed and walked away, but about an hour later Vegeta went to Trunks’ room and dragged him out to train with him in the gravity room. It was the first time he’d ever initiated sparring with his son, and he told himself that it was just because he needed to toughen up the woefully sentimental fool before he made a complete embarrassment out of the royal family bloodline. But, if he was being honest with himself, the true reason behind his actions was that he secretly held an immense amount of pride in his son and all that he’d accomplished in his short life, and that offering to spar was literally the only thing he could think to do that might comfort the boy. 

Trunks, having the advantage of knowing the other timeline’s Vegeta much better than this one, saw right through him and knew what he was doing. And he loved his father all the more for it. 

Meanwhile, out in the wilderness, Gohan was in the company of his own father figure and not doing much better than Trunks was. 

—

The nice thing about Piccolo was that he wasn’t suffocating like Chi-Chi was. And don’t get Gohan wrong, he loved his mother but she was a lot, all the time. Piccolo, on the other hand, was cool and calm and wise, and the perfect balm to Gohan’s oft-raging emotions. 

They floated in midair meditating, eyes closed and legs crossed, Gohan doing his very best to center his ki and ease the storm that had been brewing within him since the night prior. It was a losing battle, however - every time he came close to clearing his mind, he’d remember the way Trunks’ mouth tasted or the way that he’d moaned, the way that he’d confessed his love over and over again. 

He’d remember the way that Trunks’ pretty face fell when Gohan turned like a coward and left him alone in that lake. 

“All right,” Piccolo declared, side-eyeing his former pupil. “Out with it.”

Gohan blinked innocently. “Huh?”

“Your ki hasn’t felt this off since we came back from Otherworld,” Piccolo clarified. “So start talking.”

Straight to the point as always, Gohan thought as he sighed and looked away. “I don’t think you wanna hear about this one.”

“Kid, I’ve never wanted to hear about any of your problems but it’s never stopped you before,” Piccolo grinned wryly. 

“It’s embarrassing,” Gohan muttered. “And I don’t want you to think less of me.”

“The only way I’ll do that is if you keep beating around the bush instead of just getting it over with. Speak.”

Gohan gritted his teeth.  _ Dammit _ . He needed to vent, needed to confide in someone before he lost his damn mind, but it seemed like an almost insurmountable task. Facing death seemed preferable to actually saying the words out loud to his lifelong teacher. 

“Don’t make me bring your mother into this.”

Gohan froze. Just like that, he was successfully persuaded. “Okay. Fine. I’m… I have… feelings… for someone that I shouldn’t.”

Piccolo stared blankly at Gohan before asking cautiously, “Okay, just to make sure - its not me, is it, because -“

“Oh, Kami, no,” Gohan replied, aghast, eyes wide and face red. “No, I swear, that’s not it.”

Piccolo breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness. Okay. Good. Anyway. Continue.”

Gohan rubbed at the back of his neck, frowning and even more uncomfortable now. “Right, so… yeah.”

Piccolo cleared his throat. “And why shouldn’t you have feelings for this person?”

“A lot of reasons,” Gohan replied. “Age, for one.”

“Are they an adult?”

“Well, yes, but -“

“Then what’s the problem?” 

Gohan frowned, choosing his words carefully. He couldn’t make it too obvious, otherwise Piccolo would know who his  _ problem _ was. “Well… it’s complicated. Something… happened between us, and I feel like I took advantage of them. I feel horrible about it.”

Piccolo gritted his teeth, really not wanting to discuss these sorts of weird human issues with anyone, especially not the closest thing to a son he’d ever have, but this was unfortunately what came with the territory of being Gohan’s master and father figure. “Was there consent on both sides?”

“.... Yes, but -“

“Then if they’re an adult and the relationship is consensual, I don’t see why you can’t fornicate your disgusting human heart out.”

Later on Gohan would remember those words and laugh, but at the moment it just made him cringe. “I - well. Like I said, it’s complicated. There’s an age difference, and I’ve always been sort of… in a position of authority over them, so…”

Piccolo paused. “So it’s Trunks.”

Gohan’s eyes flew open wide and his cheeks went up in flames. “What? No! I didn’t say -“

“You’ve known him since he was a baby, so naturally you feel strange seeing him as anything other than a child.”

Gohan stared at Piccolo in despair. “But I didn’t say -“

Piccolo rolled his eyes. “Oh, spare me, Gohan. You couldn’t lie to me if your life depended on it.” Gohan turned away, feeling ashamed and nervous and vaguely sick as he dropped his head. Piccolo sighed and added, “Listen. I don’t know much about the human concept of romance and things of that nature, but I do know the basics. And if you’re afraid that I’ll think less of you for falling in love with an adult who also cares for you, you’re wrong.”

Gohan dragged his hand through his hair, shaking his head. “You make it sound so simple.”

“Maybe it is. And maybe deep down you know that,” Piccolo mused. “ _ Maybe _ the real problem is that you’re still punishing yourself for failing to defeat the Androids.”

Gohan’s expression darkened. “You’re starting to sound like my therapist.”

“The war’s over, Gohan. And it wouldn’t have been won without you. Trunks wouldn’t be what he is today without you. You played your role, and you played it well. Now you have a second chance at life, and you’ve earned it. You’ve earned the chance to be happy. You’ve earned the right to let the past stay in the past and move on.”

“It’s hard to do that when I still see the Androids’ eyes every time I fall asleep,” Gohan admitted. “The nightmares haven’t gotten any better. Every night I see them. I see everyone I love dying, and I see myself failing to protect them. Every night.” He thought of Trunks, of the brave and strong but scared 14 year old he’d left behind to defend the world all by himself, and Gohan could hardly stand it. “I don’t deserve to be here. I don’t deserve to have a second chance, not when I was so weak and useless and -“

“Gohan. Stop.”

Gohan closed his eyes and dropped his face into his hand, trying so  _ so _ hard not to cry but failing miserably. 

“I knew you were talking about Trunks,” Piccolo began quietly, “because I’ve seen the way he looks at you. You are the center of his entire universe - it’s obvious to anyone with eyes.”

“I don’t deserve him,” Gohan sniffed, wiping at his eyes. “He’s so  _ good _ . He’s so good, and I’m so… stupid and fucked up. He’s so much better than me and I’ll just hurt him, I know I will. I already have.”

“Maybe you should give him the respect he deserves and let him make his own choices,” Piccolo noted. “You’re not doing either of you any favors by denying him the dignity of a choice.”

Gohan chuckled through his tears, turning his watery eyes towards his mentor. “You sure you’re not any good at human relationship stuff?”

Piccolo blushed and looked away, tightening his arms across his chest. “Don’t push it, kid.”

Gohan chuckled again, taking a deep breath and then slowly letting it out. Maybe Piccolo was right. Maybe the age thing was just a red herring and his guilt and depression were the real things holding him back. Maybe it was all moot now and Trunks would want nothing to do with him following the previous night and how Gohan had ended it. He wouldn’t blame him. He’d be right to tell Gohan to kick rocks, in Gohan’s opinion. 

“Either way,” Piccolo declared, “get it figured out. Your ki feels the way nails sound on a chalkboard.”

“Oh… sorry.”

Piccolo grunted. “Now. Back to meditating.”

Gohan nodded, straightening and taking a deep cleansing breath. He closed his eyes and murmured quietly, “Thanks, Piccolo.”

Piccolo scowled, but on the inside his heart warmed. As for Gohan, he felt a little better and little less like he was a ticking time bomb, but he still had little hope for how this would all turn out in the end. He was sure that he’d lose Trunks one way or another - everyone always left him in the end, either by death or choice. Trunks would surely be no different. Gohan would ruin everything, even their friendship, and Trunks would realize that he was better off without him. 

He just didn’t have it in him to hope otherwise.

—

Trunks lasted five days before he broke down and  _ had _ to see Gohan. Really, it was a miracle he’d lasted that long. 

“Just be careful,” Bulma told Trunks as he strapped his sword on over his jacket - he couldn’t quite break the habit of taking it most everywhere with him. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” She then paused and tapped a finger to her chin. “Though I did let a murder-obsessed alien knock me up one time, so…” From behind her, somewhere near the refrigerator, a pointed snort was heard. 

“Ugh, Mom,” Trunks grimaced. 

“Sorry,” Bulma smiled. “Are you going to Mt. Paozu?” When Trunks nodded, Bulma frowned, “Chi-Chi probably won’t let you guys have much privacy… you know, it’s been awhile since me and her had a girls’ night. Go ahead and head over there, I’ll make sure she doesn’t bother you two.”

“Oh. Uh, thanks,” Trunks replied, surprised by the gesture.

“No problem,” Bulma winked. “Just make sure you boys are safe, okay?”

Trunks’ eyes widened. “ _ Mom _ -“

“I know, I know, you can’t get each other pregnant but it’s still best to be safe!” she chirped before suddenly freezing. “Hey, Vegeta,” she yelled over her shoulder, “Saiyan men can’t get pregnant, right?”

“Of course not,” Vegeta yelled back around a mouthful of noodles. “What kind of absurd question is that?”

“Never mind,” she yelled back before smiling at a rather horrified Trunks. “Anyway. Good luck, sweetie!”

Trunks mumbled his thanks and then got the hell out of there, taking to the skies and heading for Gohan’s home. He focused his thoughts on what he would say to the other man once he arrived there, assuming that Gohan would even choose to hear what he had to say. He half expected to watch the door slam in his face or be thrown out and told not to come back, but he let himself hope that it was just his fear talking. Besides, this was  _ Gohan _ \- despite how they’d last parted ways, they were still  _ them _ and they wouldn’t be torn apart so easily. Right? 

He touched down at sunset outside of the house, subtly feeling for ki signatures as he walked to the door. Chi-Chi was indeed gone, and he wondered how Bulma had scooped her up so fast. He really owed her one. 

He hesitated only briefly before knocking gently on the front door. He then took a deep breath and waited, reaching down and smoothing over his clothes, then checking over his tied-back hair for good measure. Then he reached up to knock again, and that was when the door opened to reveal the source of all his angst and confusion. 

There Gohan stood, dressed just in sweats and a tank, hair messy and a pair of black-rimmed glasses on his face. He blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting the visit, and Trunks managed a weak smile and a quiet, “Hi.”

“Hi,” Gohan replied, eyes roving over Trunks as if he were making sure that he was real. Then he snapped out of it and stepped aside, opening the door fully. “Sorry, come in.”

Trunks walked in past Gohan, nervous fingers reaching down to unbuckle and remove his sword, propping it up against the wall next to the front door. Door shut, Gohan turned around and the two men regarded each other cautiously. Trunks absolutely  _ hated _ it - since when were they like this? 

“Are you hungry?” Gohan asked politely. “I think my mom said there was a lot of leftovers from dinner…”

“No thanks, I ate already,” Trunks declined. Then he gestured to Gohan’s eyes and remarked, “I didn’t know you wore glasses.”

“It’s a new development,” Gohan chuckled, reaching up and taking them off. “Turns out my eyes and computer screens don’t get along.”

“Oh,” Trunks nodded, hands sliding into his pockets just for something to do. “How are the college applications going?”

“Good, I think,” Gohan said, rubbing the back of his head. “Just waiting on answers. Hoping to get into West City University.”

“I’m sure they’ll take you. You’re the smartest person I know, besides my mom,” Trunks replied, watching Gohan blush faintly at the compliment. “And maybe myself.”

Gohan chuckled. “Well, I’m pretty rusty. Didn’t do a whole lot of academic work in Otherworld.”

“Don’t let your mom hear that,” Trunks grinned. “She’d march right up to King - what’s his name again?”

“King Yemma.”

“King Yemma, and tell him he’s failing the educational needs of all those poor souls.”

Gohan laughed genuinely at that. “If anyone could scare King Yemma into submission, it’s definitely her.”

Trunks nodded, their mutual smiles fading a little as a silence fell over them both. Trunks decided to be brave then, letting out a breath and saying, “Listen, Gohan, we could make small talk all night but we both know why I’m here.”

“Yeah,” Gohan muttered, taking a deep breath as if bracing himself for battle. “Guess we might as well sit.”

Trunks followed Gohan to the couch, sitting to his left and making sure there was enough space between them to not freak Gohan out. Then, to his surprise, Gohan was the first to break the silence. 

“I’m really sorry for the way I left you the other night,” Gohan muttered, unable to look Trunks in the eye. “I was a coward. There’s no excuse for it.”

“Well,” Trunks began softly, “I’m sorry if I pushed you too far. I didn’t mean to. I just… got carried away and -“

“No,” Gohan shook his head. “Trust me, you didn’t do anything wrong, Trunks.”

“... Then why did you leave like that?” Trunks asked, unable to hold the question back. It was the one thing that had been haunting him all week, keeping him up at night and even seeping into his dreams. “One minute everything was fine and the next it was like you couldn’t even stand to look at me.”

Gohan sighed, picking at a loose thread in his pants. “I just… panicked. I looked at you and all of a sudden it was like you were a kid again and I was this… monster who’d taken advantage of you. I felt sick.”

Being told by the man that he was in love with that he’d sickened him wasn’t quite what Trunks had been hoping for from the conversation. He looked away from Gohan and muttered, “I’m not a kid anymore.”

“I know. I know,” Gohan said, finally letting himself look at Trunks again. “And it’s not right of me to treat you like a kid.”

Trunks swallowed, looking down at his hands. “If you can’t get past thinking of me as a kid then I guess I understand.” He tried to imagine the roles being reversed, if the other timeline’s 11 year old Gohan had asked adult Trunks to train him, and yeah, Trunks could see it being it a total mindfuck. 

But Gohan shook his head, a small smile crossing his lips as he stared at his former student. “You know,” he began softly, “when you wished me back and flew here to find me, and I turned around and saw you standing there… all I could think was that you were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.” Trunks’ eyes flew up to Gohan’s, wide with surprise. “You looked like this… Kami it sounds so cheesy, but you looked like an angel and I was just… mesmerized.”

Trunks couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but Gohan’s eyes were so soft and so sincere there could be no doubt in the truth of his words. Trunks held his breath as Gohan reached out and touched his face, thumb gently tracing his jawline and making him shiver all over. 

“You’re perfect,” Gohan confessed, the space between them slowly disappearing. “You’re strong and smart and brave and…” His eyes trailed down Trunks’ body, slowly flickering back up as he added, “Fucking sexy.”

Trunks  _ almost _ whined out loud at that. Instead he blushed and felt his heart start pounding, melting under Gohan’s unexpectedly heady gaze. 

“And yeah… it scares me how much I want you,” Gohan murmured, brushing a stray lavender strand of hair out of Trunks’ face. “I couldn’t even get hard for Videl but with you, all you have to do is just look at me a certain way and I’m about to come in my pants.”

Hearing Gohan talk like this was making Trunks’ head spin. His blood was burning in his veins and he wanted so badly to touch and kiss him but he held himself back, grateful for the self-discipline that Gohan himself had taught him. 

“Just… the smell of you,” Gohan sighed, leaning in and letting his nose graze the side of Trunks’ neck as he breathed him in. Trunks felt like he’d been struck by lightning. “Fuck, it’s like a drug. I can’t even describe it.”

Gohan’s own scent flooded Trunks’ nose, leaving him lightheaded and wondering if this was some weird Saiyan thing. He hadn’t noticed it last time but it had been so quick and sudden, he hadn’t been able to soak it all in as much as he wanted. But now Trunks could close his eyes and damn near get high on Gohan, letting him overwhelm his senses and set every nerve in his body alight, and he almost let himself slip away and submit to Gohan right there on the couch. 

_ Almost _ . 

“Wait,” Trunks forced out, pushing Gohan far enough away to look him in the eyes. “Stop.” Gohan stared back at him, flushed and heavy lidded, and  _ Kami _ was he gorgeous like that. “I can’t do this again if you’re just gonna push me away. I can’t, Gohan. I won’t.”

“I don’t want to push you away,” Gohan replied, his tone almost desperate. “It’s the last thing I want.”

“Didn’t stop you last time,” Trunks replied. Then he took Gohan’s hand in his, still larger than his own just like it always would be, and he looked into Gohan’s eyes as he told him, “Listen… if you want me you can have me. But only if it’s real. If you’re ashamed or if you’re not sure about this then I can’t do it. We both deserve better than that. I don’t want to push you into something you’re not ready for but I’m also not gonna let myself come here and touch you and kiss you and… let myself think I’m yours when I’m really not.”

Gohan nodded, thumb tracing lightly over Trunks’ knuckles. “I’m a mess, Trunks. I can’t promise you that I’ll be any good for you. I barely sleep, I’m angry more than I’m not, and I already fucked things up with us once.”

“I’m a mess too,” Trunks assured him. “I can’t stop carrying my sword with me everywhere, even to work. Crowds make me panic. I have nightmares, I have intrusive thoughts, I - fuck, Gohan, you really think I have it together? I don’t. None of us do anymore. But,” he licked his lips and drew in a shaky breath, “if you promise to  _ try _ , to just  _ try _ to make this work and do it right, then I will too. That’s all I need.”

Gohan sighed, leaning forward and pressing his forehead to Trunks’ own, closing his eyes. “I don’t deserve you, Trunks. I don’t wanna hurt you.”

Trunks closed his eyes too, the two men sharing the same breaths. “I’d rather hurt with you than hurt without you.”

Gohan smiled. He gently lifted Trunks’ hand to his lips, kissing the back of it and looking up to find Trunks staring at him in wonder. “If you‘ll still have me,” Gohan whispered, “then I promise I’ll do my best.”

Trunks felt like his heart was about to explode.  _ Was this even real? _ “You mean that?”

“More than I’ve ever meant anything.”

Trunks blinked, smiling widely and watching as Gohan kissed his hand again. It was so sweet, so strangely intimate, and Trunks had never in his life felt such unbridled joy. He then threw himself at the older man, kissing him with such shameless enthusiasm that he nearly knocked Gohan on his back. But Gohan quickly righted himself and smiled into the kiss, the two men wrapping their arms around each other and flying high on the near-euphoria of the moment. 

When the need for air broke them apart, Trunks wasted no time in taking the opportunity to climb into Gohan’s lap, straddling him and shucking off his jacket before moving in for another kiss that Gohan unexpectedly stopped. 

“Wait, my mom,” Gohan said, hand on Trunks’ chest. “She’s gonna be home any minute.”

Trunks shook his head, grinning. “My mom promised to keep her out all night so we could have the place to ourselves.”

Gohan’s eyes widened. “Your mom -“

“Is awesome,” Trunks smirked before leaning in and this time being met halfway in a fiery kiss. He could hardly believe they were really doing this, a part of him waiting for something to blow up either literally or figuratively and ruin everything, but the thrill of the moment overshadowed those irrational fears and kept him going. They kissed and clung to each other with a fury, none of the reluctance from their first time getting in the way, neither able to get close enough fast enough. 

Trunks was the first to break away, impatiently yanking off his own shirt before reaching for Gohan’s. Once it was gone Trunks took a moment to fully take the other man in, able to do so properly this time, and he marveled at the way that Gohan’s body told their intertwined stories. The scars that littered his face and his chest, what little that remained of his left arm, the muscles that were exactly the same as Trunks remembered, the unbelievable power that ran within the veins beneath that skin… 

“Trunks?”

Trunks shook out of his revelry, having been running his hands all over each inch of skin that he could reach, and he smiled shyly as he kissed Gohan softly. “Sorry. Got distracted by how beautiful you are.”

Gohan blushed and squirmed, hand gripping Trunks’ ass and pulling him closer. “Pretty sure that should be my line. Besides,” he gave a firm squeeze, “have you  _ seen _ this ass?”

“Oh,” Trunks grinned, grinding down teasingly on Gohan’s lap. “Like my ass, huh?”

“I like everything about you,” Gohan replied, stealing another kiss. “Your eyes, your hair, your… everything.” Then he smiled and started kissing down Trunks’ neck, and Trunks let his eyes roll shut and held on to the back of Gohan’s head as he tasted his skin. 

Gohan licked over what little was left of the bite mark he’d left last time, nibbling playfully at it as his hand slipped down into the back of Trunks’ pants. Trunks’ breath caught in his throat, having never been felt up this way before, each sensation all the more intense from the newness of it. Gohan squeezed and kneaded the flesh of his ass as his mouth slowly worked down over his collarbone and then to his pecs, where he kissed and licked his way to an already-hard nipple. One flick of his tongue and Trunks jolted in his lap, and Gohan looked up at him with a devilish smirk. “Like that?”

Trunks growled and shoved Gohan back, then kissed him furiously. If he let Gohan keep going like that it would be over way too fast on Trunks’ end, and he wanted this night to go much better than that. Gohan let him seize back the control, settling back against the couch as Trunks began his own journey down Gohan’s body. Gohan watched and played with Trunks’ hair as he tasted him, his licks and kisses far less patient than Gohan’s had been, and that was because he had a very deliberate goal in mind that he was hyper focused on. He couldn’t help it - he’d been thinking about this nonstop for longer than he’d ever admit. 

Before Gohan even realized it, Trunks had gracefully slid from his lap down to the floor on his knees and between Gohan’s legs. His tongue was busy tracing the dips in each of Gohan’s abs, showing the muscles how much he admired them and trailing lower and lower with each kiss. When his lips finally brushed the soft cotton of a waistband, he looked up at Gohan through his lashes before slowly tugging the fabric down. Gohan wasn’t wearing anything beneath, Trunks realized as his hard, leaking cock bounced free and stood proud before his eyes. 

“ _ Oh, fuck,” _ Trunks couldn’t help but curse, having only felt rather than  _ seen _ all of Gohan back in the lake. Gohan tried not to squirm as Trunks stared, seemingly transfixed until he reached out and wrapped his hand around him. Trunks slowly stroked him up and down, his mouth watering as his efforts produced a few drops of pre-come that slid slowly down Gohan’s length. He didn’t think twice before leaning in and licking it off. 

“Trunks,” Gohan gasped, flushed all the way down to his belly button as Trunks looked up at him, tongue teasing at his tip. “You don’t -  _ fuck _ \-  _ Trunks _ -“

“ _ Master _ ,” Trunks all but purred, stroking his cock slow and pressing a kiss to the pulsing vein on the underside. 

Gohan groaned again and grabbed at his own hair, nearly gasping, “ _ Fuck _ , when you say that, it…”

Trunks grinned and ran his tongue up that vein before swirling it around the tip. “Master,” he murmured again, “can I suck your cock?”

Gohan’s entire body shuddered. “ _ Yes _ , Kami, please, Trunks…”

And just because Trunks was a little shit, he gave a seductive little  _ thank you, Master _ before taking him fully into his mouth. Gohan wasn’t small and Trunks wasn’t experienced but he didn’t care, giving it his all and enjoying every last bit of it, even the slight ache in his jaw, because Gohan utterly  _ went to pieces _ for him. He moaned and writhed and cursed like he’d never felt such pleasure before, sometimes tugging at his own hair and sometimes at Trunks’ own, other times reaching behind his head to grip at the couch and nearly break it in his grip. Trunks watched as much as he could, his own arousal almost unbearable by that point, but he stayed focused and sucked harder and deeper until he had Gohan right where he wanted him. 

“Oh,” Gohan gasped, hips jerking slightly, his full-body blush deepening even further, “oh, Trunks, fuck, I’m -“

Trunks moaned around him and worked him faster, his hand stroking what his mouth couldn’t fit, and then he felt Gohan suddenly seize his other hand in a near-death grip. Their fingers intertwined just before Gohan cried out and arched, spilling deep into Trunks’ throat and filling him with a sort of satisfaction he’d never even imagined. As Trunks swallowed what he was given and pulled away only once Gohan was limp and boneless before him, he looked over his sweat-slicked, wrung-out body and remembered what Gohan had said about not being able to even get hard for Videl. Yet here he was, naked and satisfied and blissed-out at the hands - and mouth - of his former student. 

Trunks had never felt such bone-deep pride in his life. 

He climbed back on the couch, settling in at Gohan’s side and wrapping an arm around him. Gohan’s eyes slowly opened and a smile blossomed across his lips as he looked at his new lover. Trunks wanted to kiss him but wasn’t sure if Gohan would want to at that exact moment, but Gohan was quick to put him at ease as he reached out and pulled him in close for an absolutely filthy kiss. Suddenly Trunks was painfully aware of how hard he was, whimpering against his will against Gohan’s lips, but Gohan knew what he needed. He reached down and grasped him through his pants, making him gasp and break the kiss. 

“You’re so good, Trunks,” Gohan murmured, rubbing him through the fabric a few times before reaching up to undo his belt. Trunks would have helped had he had half his wits about him but Gohan didn’t need it, deftly getting his pants down and out of the way as he continued to kiss him hungrily and whisper sweet words to him. “So pretty, so perfect…”

Trunks might have objected to anyone else calling him pretty, but with Gohan… fuck it, he wanted to be the prettiest fucking boy, girl,  _ anything _ he’d ever seen. Then Gohan was stroking him in his rough, big hand, and Trunks let out a whine of sheer relief against Gohan’s lips. 

“How’s that feel?” Gohan asked, kissing his lips softly, unable to help himself. 

“G-good, so good,” Trunks stuttered, glancing down and feeling his heart flip almost concerningly hard at the sight of his cock in Gohan’s hand. He wasn’t quite as big as Gohan was but he fit perfectly in his hand, and just the fact that this was real and it was really  _ Gohan _ touching him like this - what could ever be better? 

Gohan groaned and buried his face in Trunks’ neck, leaving more marks for others to see later. Trunks didn’t mind, maybe even kind of liking the idea of other people seeing the marks and wondering who was putting them on him. Absently he wondered what people would think of  _ West City’s most eligible bachelor _ now, naked on his old mentor’s couch and thrusting up into his fist as he moaned like a whore. The thought only heightened his pleasure and made his cries grow even louder. 

Gohan could sense how close he was, finally lifting up his head from Trunks’ neck and murmuring, “Gonna come for me, Trunks?”

Trunks shuddered, his fingers buried in Gohan’s hair as he nodded and shakily replied, “Don’t stop, please.”

“I won’t,” Gohan assured him, kissing Trunks long and deep as his hand sped up. Once he knew that Trunks couldn’t take anymore he leaned their foreheads together and whispered, “Come for me, Trunks. Come for your Master.”

Trunks came with a silent scream, his hold on Gohan’s hair becoming painful as he let go. Gohan watched his face through the entire thing, mesmerized by the other man’s beauty and how incredible he looked in the throes of passion, and he couldn’t believe he’d almost ruined all of this. Trunks was undeniably the best thing that had ever happened to him - how could he do anything but hold him close and never let him slip away? 

Trunks laid his head on Gohan’s shoulder as he came down from his high, his eyes only opening when he felt Gohan’s hand leave him. That was when, to his astonishment, he watched as Gohan brought his fingers to his lips and licked each one until they were clean. 

Everyone always thought Gohan was so innocent, Trunks mused to himself as he watched the filthy display, and in some ways he was - but clearly in others, he was anything but. 

Then Gohan kissed him, his tongue sliding against his own and making him taste himself. Trunks moaned into his mouth and would have been hard again already had he been physically capable of such a thing, but instead he just wrapped his arms around Gohan and sunk into the kiss. 

They stayed there like that until they began to grow a bit cold, at which point Gohan groaned and said, “Wanna go to bed?”

Trunks nodded and smiled. “Can’t promise I’ll wanna sleep anytime soon, though.”

Gohan grinned and kissed his forehead. “I was counting on it.”

—

As promised, neither man did much sleeping that night but for once it was for happy reasons. They stayed up late talking and snacking and, when the need became too great to resist, screwing around and exploring each other more. It was the best night of Trunks’ whole life, he was sure, and when he finally fell asleep it was with a smile on his face and his lover wrapped around him. 

When they woke up the next morning, Chi-Chi still wasn’t home so they took advantage of her absence and spent the morning kissing and flirting and teasing each other as they made breakfast - but they kept their clothes on, just in case she walked in at some point. And as they sat at the kitchen table and dug into the easy but hearty array of foods they’d cooked up, Trunks asked Gohan a question that had been nagging at his mind since the night before. 

“Are you gonna tell your mom or should we keep this quiet for awhile?” Trunks asked, cup of coffee in hand. “It doesn’t matter to me, since my parents already know, but if you wanna stay under the radar it’s fine with me.”

Gohan took a breath, contemplating the question as he chewed on a rather comically large mouthful of bacon. His dad would have been proud, Trunks mused. “Well… yeah, I’m not sure. The thing is, she’ll figure it out eventually - I’ve never been able to keep anything from her.”

“Will she… have a problem with it, you think?”

“Hard to say,” Gohan admitted. “She’s not a prejudiced person. But as far as she knows, I’m straight as an arrow. And she was really pushing me to get serious with Videl.” Then he paused and chuckled, “But Piccolo already knows.”

Trunks paused. “Really?”

Gohan nodded. “He figured it out. I tried to talk to him without giving away details, but… yeah. Anyway, he approves.”

Trunks chuckled. “Well that’s good. My mom does too, and my dad… I think he sort of does, in his own weird Vegeta way.”

Gohan eyed him skeptically. “Are you sure? I mean, he kind of hated my dad and I don’t think he ever liked me much more.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure he overheard me spilling my guts to my mom the other day because he usually never asks me to train with him. He’s always  _ I train alone, boy _ ,” Trunks imitated his father’s rough growl, “but that day he actually came to my room and physically dragged me to the gravity room and spent the next like three hours kicking my ass. Which for him is the equivalent of, I don’t know, bonding over a baseball game or something.”

Gohan laughed. “Yeah, makes sense. Wow. Sounds like he’s coming around.”

“I hope so,” Trunks sighed. “I spent a whole year training with him in the other timeline and he still didn’t bother to show an ounce of concern until after I was already dead, so… I think things might actually be going better here.”

“How’s he and your mom doing?”

Trunks grimaced. “Oh, they’re doing  _ great _ . Walked in on them having sex on the kitchen table the other day.”

Gohan made a face and groaned. “Shit. Sorry I asked.”

“Nah, I mean… I’m glad my mom has another chance at some happiness. I know how lonely she was before. I just… didn’t need to see it.”

“Yeah… wow, there’s a pretty big age gap between them now, isn’t there?”

Trunks nodded. “She’s almost 52, he’s 36-ish.”

“Huh. They’ve got us beat,” Gohan grinned. Trunks grinned back, and then Gohan tipped his chin back and said, “Hey, come here.”

Having a feeling as to where this was going and not objecting in the least, Trunks got up and walked around the table to where Gohan was sitting. Gohan then held out his hand, and Trunks smiled as he took it and was then yanked forward to sit on Gohan’s lap. 

Trunks wrapped his arms around Gohan’s neck and smiled, “Your breakfast is getting cold.”

“Is it? Didn’t notice. Something must be distracting me,” Gohan teased, tucking Trunks’ free-flowing lavender hair behind his ear. 

“Hey, if you want me to go, just say the word,” Trunks teased back. “Pretty sure I was supposed to be at work an hour ago anyway.”

“Right,” Gohan chuckled. “Sometimes I forget you’re a soulless corporate drone now.”

Trunks playfully slapped at his shoulder. “Better than an uncultured country bumpkin.”

“Man, and I thought the son of Vegeta would trash talk better.”

Trunks shrugged. “I only inherited his unparalleled power and inner turmoil. Pretty sure I have his ass too.”

Gohan paused. “Yeah. You do.”

Trunks then paused, connecting the dots. If Gohan had a special affection for his ass and was already aware that he and Vegeta basically had the same exact one… “Wait a second -“

Gohan kissed him quiet, laughing as he did so. Deciding to ask him later on when he’d been checking out his dad, Trunks decided to let it lie for now and focused on the impromptu makeout session at the breakfast table. It didn’t take long before he was starving for something entirely different from food, the two men kissing long and passionately and groping at each other like they just couldn’t get enough. 

It was absolutely perfect, at least until the door flew open and Chi-Chi stumbled inside. 

“I swear on Kami’s name,” she wailed as Trunks flew off of Gohan and knocked the entire table over in the process, sending all of its contents crashing to the floor. “I am never drinking again. I’m too old for this.”

Trunks, panicking and quickly flipping the table back over and then trying to pick up everything from the floor, watched as Gohan froze and beheld his mother in all her hungover glory. Her clothes were rumpled and her usually sleek bun was a total wreck, and her skin was tinted an alarming shade of green. She trudged past the men, not even sparing them a passing glance as she made her way to her bedroom. 

“I’m gonna go lay down and die now,” she announced. “You boys better clean up that mess.”

“Yes, Mom.”

“Yes, Miss Chi-Chi.”

“And for the record, Gohan,” she muttered, her back to them as she slowly disappeared into the hallway, “I don’t care who you date so long as you give me a grandbaby before I die. So you better get on that, since I’m pretty sure this is my last day on earth.”

Trunks’ eyes widened and flew to Gohan, who looked shocked but also immensely relieved. He smiled slowly and replied, “Okay, Mom. Do you need anything?”

“A bucket to throw up in,” she called back, walking into her room. “And a grandbaby.”

Gohan chuckled, turning to Trunks with enough warmth in his eyes to melt the other man. Trunks couldn’t help but smile back, even if the mere idea of having kids someday filled him with more fear than any evil being ever had. 

Still, that had gone better than either of them could have hoped for.  _ This just might work out after all _ , Trunks thought to himself as he got back to work cleaning up the kitchen floor, a stupidly happy smile stuck to his face. 

Could they really be so lucky? 

—

As it turned out, they could. 

In the coming days, Trunks told his parents that he and Gohan were officially together and to his immense relief, they truly were both fine with it. In fact, Bulma was absolutely overjoyed and Vegeta, well - he gave as much of an endorsement as he could. 

“While that son of a third class clown is hardly the ideal mate for you,” Vegeta had sneered, eyes closed and arms crossed, “he is at least half-Saiyan and therefore better than anyone else on this pathetic little planet. Though of course, being a man, you cannot procreate and continue the family line naturally, so alternative measures will have to be taken to ensure our race’s survival.”

Trunks had just blinked, shocked to his core that Vegeta’s very first thought had, just like Chi-Chi’s, been  _ grandchildren _ . How bizarre. 

Then, just in a few weeks’ time, two very important things happened: Gohan got accepted to West City University and Trunks got his own apartment not far from campus. Trunks had been craving some space from Capsule Corp and with his and Gohan’s blossoming relationship it felt like high time to get his own place, and then with Gohan’s new college student status, it seemed like a no-brainer to get a place close to the school. They wouldn’t be moving in together, not yet, but Trunks told Gohan he could crash there whenever he didn’t feel like making the flight home, and of course Gohan had happily agreed. 

Incredibly, everything seemed to be falling into place. Bulma threw the two men a dual party - for Gohan’s college acceptance and for her little boy leaving the nest - and while they both protested and begged her not to do it, she wouldn’t hear a word of it. 

The party was as full and lively as all of Bulma’s celebrations were, and all of their friends and family attended. Trunks and Gohan decided beforehand to keep things low key and definitely avoid any PDA, mostly just because they didn’t want to deal with the inevitable questions from everyone. They weren’t ashamed of their relationship but they also just didn’t feel particularly motivated to share it with their entire circle just yet, so they tried their best to act casual and  _ not _ eyefuck each other the entire time. Which was easier said than done, but they  _ just _ managed. 

Then, in the middle of the festivities, Bulma asked Gohan to follow her to the lab so that she could show him something she’d been working on. He followed her curiously, wondering what on earth it could be and hoping it wasn’t Vegeta ready to pummel him for dating his son. 

He was completely shocked by what it actually was. 

“I’ve been working on this ever since we brought you back,” Bulma told Gohan, opening a case to show him a brand new, cutting edge prosthetic arm. It looked like sleek dark gray metal, but when she picked it up and out of the case easily it proved how lightweight it was. “The challenge was to make something that won’t shatter the minute you go Super Saiyan while also staying lightweight and flexible. No small feat but, for a genius like me,” she winked, “nothing is impossible.”

Gohan stared at the arm, wide-eyed and unable to form words for a moment or two. “Bulma…”

“Now I have to give credit where credit is due - Vegeta was my test subject for this,” she explained. “This material can take the full brunt of his greatest power and not even crack. It’s also roughly the same weight as a regular arm, and with my technology you’ll even be able to have some sensation in it. We can connect it to the nerves in your shoulder and -“

As Bulma rambled on and on, explaining in great detail the science behind her work, Gohan felt himself becoming dangerously close to tearing up. The amount of time and energy that she had put into this despite never even talking to Gohan about it, just developing this prosthesis purely because she cared and wanted to help make his life easier, tailoring it to suit his highly specific needs… he couldn’t ask for a better friend. 

“ - but don’t worry, it’ll be a pretty simple procedure and we can do it here whenever you’re ready. Afterwards I might need to upgrade it occasionally as the tech improves but this should be a great starting point and -  _ oomph _ !”

Gohan shut her up with a hug, all but crushing her to his chest. “Thank you, Bulma.”

She smiled and hugged him back, sighing into the embrace. “You’re welcome, Gohan. It’s the least I can do.” Then, after they pulled apart, she added, “Now, if you break my little boy’s heart, I  _ will _ find you and rip it off and slap the shit out of you with it. Fair warning.”

Gohan laughed. “I’d deserve it if I did. But I have no plans of screwing up the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Bulma smiled and patted his cheek. “Good.”

Afterwards, Gohan’s heart feeling light and full in the very best of ways, he rejoined the party and gave Trunks a smile that the younger man returned without hesitation. Their eyes lingered a little too long but neither of them cared, and the funny thing was Gohan noticed  _ Roshi _ of all people glancing at them curiously. Gohan blushed and looked down, chuckling inwardly at the idea that the old pervert might be the most perceptive out of the whole group. 

Then, before he could so much as blink, a scowling Saiyan Prince suddenly appeared only inches away from him. 

Gohan blinked at him. “Hi, Vegeta.”

Vegeta merely narrowed his already narrow eyes, arms crossed and posture rigid as always. “Gohan.”

Gohan looked around, feeling like he might break a sweat if he didn’t escape whatever this was. “Um…”

“I don’t know what my son sees in you,” Vegeta grumbled. “You’re a carbon copy of your idiot father  _ and _ you are wasting your time on Earth’s pointless education when you should be training every spare second to get stronger. What happens when the next threat appears, hm? You must be ready to defend your mate, and a damn Ph.D won’t do shit for that. At least Kakarot understood that - he was an imbecile and he didn’t care because he knew the only important thing in life is to get stronger!”

Gohan had definitely broken a sweat now. ”But -“

Vegeta growled and jabbed Gohan in the chest with a single finger. “So long as you are my son’s mate, you  _ will _ train with me and you  _ will _ get stronger and if you do not, then you will answer to me and my fist - understand?”

“Yes sir,” Gohan nodded quickly. “I - I’m not sure how much free time I’ll have, but -“

“ _ You will make time! _ ” Vegeta demanded, and Gohan barely contained a yelp and nodded again. “Besides,” Vegeta muttered, glancing back towards Trunks, who was watching from across the room with great concern in his eyes, “the runt has surpassed us both. He thinks I don’t know, as if I can’t sense his ki lighting up the desert every time the two of you spar. But I refuse to be bested by my own half-Earthling son, so you and I - we will train until we have both surpassed him.”

Gohan paused, wondering if this was merely a pride thing or something more. Something better. After all, he mused, if Vegeta only cared about beating Trunks, why would he insist that Gohan train with him and also get stronger? No, Gohan decided with a small smile, this was Vegeta’s way of looking out for his only son. Making sure that he and Gohan could protect him should the world go to shit again. 

“What are you smiling about, moron?” Vegeta snapped, and Gohan almost visibly jumped. 

“Nothing. Just looking forward to our training, sir.”

Vegeta smirked and turned to walk away. “Good. I look forward to punching your ridiculous face in.”

_ Oh boy, _ Gohan thought as he rubbed at the back of his neck. This was gonna be interesting. 

The rest of the party went off without a hitch, but the surprises weren’t quite over yet. A late guest arrived whom neither Trunks nor Gohan had known was invited, walking in looking a little nervous and unsure but smiling as soon as Gohan noticed her presence. 

It was Videl. And although Trunks’ initial gut reaction was slight panic and fear, he was quickly put at ease when it became clear that Videl was only there as a friend who cared very much about Gohan and wanted to congratulate him in person. By the time she’d left and the party was winding down, Trunks felt a little guilty for ever hating her as he once had. She and Gohan shared an important connection, just not a romantic one, and Trunks knew that he had nothing to worry about. He trusted Gohan more than he trusted anyone. 

By the end of the night, Trunks and Gohan each felt ready to tackle the next phases of their lives. Change was scary and they were each carrying an airline’s worth of baggage but they were doing it together and taking it all one step at a time. It wasn’t gonna be easy, they knew that, but… they’d always been suckers for a good challenge. 

—

_ One month later _

Trunks laid naked on his stomach, arms hugging the pillow under his cheek as Gohan slowly trailed a single fingertip down his spine and into the small of his back. 

“Where’s your tail scar?” Gohan asked curiously, having meant to ask in the past but always being far too  _ distracted _ to do so. 

Trunks hummed, enjoying the dueling sensations as two hands then slid over his ass and kneaded softly - one made of warm flesh, one cool and made of nearly indestructible metal. “Wasn’t born with a tail.”

“Huh,” Gohan murmured, lips pressing small kisses down Trunks’ spine. “I bet it would have been beautiful. Wonder if it would have matched your hair.”

Trunks grinned into the pillow. “Purple tails turn you on?”

“ _ You _ turn me on,” Gohan replied before grabbing Trunks by the hips and turning him over. Trunks smiled up at him, his long hair fanned out on the pillow under his head, and Gohan kissed him long and slow before asking, “Are you sure about this?”

Trunks rolled his eyes. “For the thousandth time, Gohan,  _ yes _ .”

“I’m just afraid of hurting you,” Gohan sighed, holding himself up with his new left arm and cupping Trunks’ cheek with his right. 

“While I appreciate your concern,” Trunks murmured back, “I’m gonna fucking deck you if you don’t fuck me tonight.”

Gohan started laughing at the unexpected threat, and that sent Trunks into his own brief laughing fit. The truth was, this was terribly overdue - they’d been so busy for the last month that they’d barely had the chance to spend the night together more than a handful of times, and even then they’d had to get up early the next mornings and were too tired to really take their time. Gohan was adjusting to his new class schedule and his rigorous training with Vegeta, and Trunks was busy with work and getting his new apartment fully set up and furnished. It left little time for just the two of them, but they’d managed to get this particular weekend set apart for just the two of them. 

And Trunks was determined to make it count. 

Once the laughter had dissipated, the two men fell into a kiss that reignited the familiar heat between them. It was effortless, as natural as breathing, and Trunks wondered how he’d lived so long without this. He held Gohan close, wrapping his legs around his waist and rocking up against him, unable to get close enough fast enough. Their hard cocks rubbed together, pulling soft gasps from both men as they slowly rocked with each other and built a delicious friction that would have easily become too much and ended things too soon had Gohan not broke away to start trailing kisses down Trunks’ body. 

Trunks let out a contented sigh and laid back, closing his eyes and giving himself over to Gohan’s touch. By now Gohan had learned his body well and knew where to kiss, lick and bite to make him shiver and pulse with need, and this time it was all the more intense knowing that tonight, Trunks would  _ finally _ get to feel Gohan inside of him. He craved it, needed it, needed to give Gohan all of himself and take that step together. And the fact that Gohan was so vexed about possibly hurting Trunks after all that they’d both endured as warriors just made him all the more endearing in Trunks’ eyes. 

“Kami, you’re beautiful,” Gohan groaned against Trunks’ skin as he nipped at one of his hipbones. Trunks opened his eyes and smiled down at his boyfriend - though the term hardly fully captured what he was to him - then gasped as he sucked a bruise into his skin. “And,” Gohan added as he licked over the mark, “you’re all mine.”

Trunks moaned his agreement, his fists clenching in the silk sheets as Gohan then kissed his way to where Trunks wanted him most. Gohan’s right hand grasped and stroked his cock as he laid filthy kisses all over it, teasing him like that for only a moment before swallowing him whole. 

Trunks gasped and looked down to watch in awe as Gohan took  _ all _ of him in, making it look like nothing at all. As it had turned out, Gohan was something of a natural at sucking cock and had damn near mastered it the first time around. Trunks might have kinda hated him for it if it didn’t work out so well in his favor, plus Gohan seemed to fucking  _ love _ it. Trunks was the luckiest guy in the galaxy, he was sure of it. 

Gohan was sucking him off so beautifully, so skillfully that Trunks almost didn’t notice when a slick finger slipped further down and started teasing him somewhere new. The sensation was new but thrilling because he knew what it meant, knew that soon he’d have what he’d been craving. 

The first finger he took was more strange than anything, an odd-feeling intrusion that was really only slightly distracting from the mouth still engulfing him over and over. Then with the second finger came a burn and more obvious discomfort, but Trunks breathed through it and Gohan was incredibly gentle, paying close attention to Trunks’ every cue and taking his time to let him adjust. And once he did, it didn’t take long before Trunks was rocking into the touch, trying to take in more of him. 

Gohan chuckled and let Trunks’ cock fall from his lips, getting up on his knees and adjusting his angle as he fingered him more deeply. Trunks gasped and Gohan asked lowly, “Like that, Trunks?”

Trunks nodded, sweat beading on his forehead and his legs falling open wider, inviting Gohan in. Gohan looked down and watched his fingers disappear over and over into the younger man’s body, marveling, “You feel  _ amazing _ . So hot and  _ tight… _ almost wonder how I’m gonna fit in here…” Then he curled his fingers and Trunks let out a sudden shout, and Gohan froze and asked in slight horror, “Did I hurt y-“

Trunks threw his head from side to side. “Fuck no, do it again.”

_ Oh _ . Gohan’s concerned expression gave way to a smirk, and he obeyed Trunks’ demand. This time Trunks’ entire body shuddered, and as Gohan tormented the newly discovered sweet spot, Trunks could only hold on and surrender to the brand new, intoxicating pleasure. Gohan didn’t stop until he knew he had Trunks on the edge, about to come entirely untouched, and  _ right _ when he started to seize up, Gohan pulled away and left him bereft. 

“What the fuck,” Trunks whined desperately, though his protests were quickly silenced by a hungry mouth on his own. His hands flew to Gohan’s hair, his body rocking up and looking for something, anything to take, to rub against, and to his shock, Gohan had the audacity to  _ laugh _ at him. 

“You want my cock  _ that _ bad, baby?” Gohan murmured lowly, and Trunks shivered at the pet name. It was a new development, something he found he rather enjoyed being called. 

“Yeah, I fucking do,” Trunks snapped back, not holding back the bite in his tone. “C’mon, Gohan, give it to me.”

“Ask me nicely,” Gohan replied, nudging his nose with his own, “and I’ll think about it.”

Fine, Trunks thought. He knew exactly how to play this man and get what he wanted from him. He slung a leg over Gohan’s hip and rutted up against him, kissing him deeply and then looking up through his lashes as he purred, “Please,  _ Master _ , let me have your cock. I’ve been good, haven’t I?”

Gohan groaned, his entire body flushing from those words. “You’re  _ always _ good for me, Trunks.”

“Then give it to me,” Trunks pled, scratching short nails down Gohan’s back. “Please, Master, I need your cock so bad…”

Gohan cursed and finally gave in, leaving a few sloppy kisses on Trunks’ lips before looking down and lining them up, guiding himself inside. Trunks held his breath out of instinct at that first sensation of pressure, but then he reminded himself to breathe and looked up to find Gohan watching him carefully. 

“You ready? Gohan whispered, and Trunks nodded. Then Gohan kissed him one more time, and began to slowly press inside of him. 

It was a painstakingly slow process, one that felt like an eternity for both of them as Trunks took each inch one at a time. It was a  _ lot _ , so very different from just a few fingers, and for one slightly terrifying moment he wondered if it was too much and if Gohan would simply break him. But he didn’t give up, willing his body to relax and welcome the other man in, and before long Gohan was fully seated and panting hard into his neck. 

“Fuck, Trunks,” Gohan breathed, and Trunks had to agree. This was… both exhilarating and overwhelming, even more intense than Trunks had imagined. He clung to the man above him, slowly adjusting to him and calming down further with each breath that he took. 

When he was ready, Trunks kissed Gohan’s temple and whispered in his ear, “You can move.”

Gohan lifted his head, kissing Trunks softly as he drew back by just a few inches and pushed back in. Trunks hid a wince behind another kiss, determined to do this and do it right, and it wasn’t long before his perseverance paid off. Gohan started building up a rhythm, pulling out nearly all the way before gently thrusting back in, and that was when the strange, not entirely pleasant sensations began to change into something far better. 

The first time Gohan brushed that same spot his fingers had found, Trunks moaned and thrust up to meet Gohan’s hips, taking him deeper. That was when Gohan knew this was working, smiling as he kissed the corner of Trunks’ mouth and asked, “Good?”

Trunks hummed to the affirmative, words failing him. He was so full, so vulnerable, so  _ open _ , and yet he felt so unbelievably safe and cared for in Gohan’s arms. He looked up and drank in the sight of the older man as he slowly fucked into him, his eyes closed and brows furrowed and hair falling into his eyes, lips parted and kiss-swollen, pale skin beautiful in the dim glow of the bedroom. Trunks was utterly overcome with love for him. 

And when Gohan opened his eyes and saw the way that his lover was staring at him, he smiled down at him and then kissed him until they were both breathless. All the while he gradually began fucking him harder, deeper, hitting that spot just right and making Trunks gasp and shudder with each new thrust. 

Metal fingers entwined with softer, smaller flesh ones and held Trunks’ hand to the pillow just above his head. Gohan kissed Trunks deeply and passionately, as if he’d simply drown if he were to pull away, and Trunks was all too happy to indulge him. They moved together in perfect sync, Trunks soon feeling himself nearing his breaking point and ending the kiss to let Gohan know. 

“I’m right behind you,” Gohan groaned, flesh hand cradling Trunks’ cheek. “Let go, Trunks, I’ve got you.”

_ I’ve got you _ . 

Trunks felt tears leave his eyes as he tipped over the edge, mouth falling open and body exploding with pleasure as he told Gohan over and over in shaky whispers against his lips,  _ I love you _ . He said the words until he couldn’t speak anymore, until he was wrung out and limp and feeling the warmth of Gohan’s own orgasm filling him up. They’d fallen over the edge together and it was better than any of Trunks’ wildest dreams, worth all the pain and misery it had taken to bring them to this world and this moment. He’d do it all again in a heartbeat, just to see Gohan smile and touch his face again. 

But he didn’t have to. The war was over, peace was won, and Gohan was  _ his _ . 

Lying together in a sweaty, hazy pile of tangled limbs and heavy breaths, Trunks was nearly asleep when Gohan pressed a sweet kiss just under his jaw and nuzzled him there, murmuring his name. Trunks opened his eyes and met Gohan’s soft, satisfied gaze, and then Gohan spoke the words that Trunks only then realized he’d been waiting his whole life for. 

“I love you too.”

Trunks smiled wide, eyes shining with fresh new tears of happiness, and they kissed slowly as they basked inside their own little private bubble of bliss. Trunks held Gohan close, hardly able to believe that this was real and that hope really had won out in the end, even after all was lost. 

“I love you so much,” Gohan added softly, closing his eyes and resting his head on Trunks’ shoulder. Trunks closed his eyes too, letting the pull of sleep overtake him and lull him into a rare nightmare-free slumber. 

The next day, Trunks forgot to bring his sword with him to work. He forgot again the day after that, and then the day after that. And nothing terrible happened. Everything was fine. Nightmares still came and their scars never fully healed, and sometimes they would fight and need space and sometimes everything was far from all right, but they’d always come back to what Trunks had told Gohan in the beginning of this new stage of their relationship:  _ I’d rather hurt with you than without you. _

They chose to hurt together, and in doing so found their other halves. They didn’t fit together perfectly, their pieces far too jagged and broken, but their souls would know each other in any lifetime and any timeline. 

Sometimes, they learned, it took losing everything to find where you had always belonged. 

  
  
  
  



End file.
